A Lion and a Unicorn
by Mnemosyne77
Summary: Part 1 of the 'Life in Moments' Trilogy. Morgana dreams and in trying to work out what it means she discovers something about Arthur's servant.
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

**It wouldn't be an epic tale if it didn't start with a dream**

It started with the dream but it seemed for the Lady Morgana that it always started that way.

She was running through a forest, terrified. Someone was after her, was going to hurt her. She scrambled through the underbrush, bare feet torn by thorns and branches. She realised she was wearing only her shift but couldn't remember what she had done with her dress. As she ran she felt a horrific pain in her ankle and shuddered to a halt, falling to the ground. Her foot was caught in a trap and as she looked down, she realised suddenly that her shift was drenched in blood. Through the moonlit trees, she could hear her pursuer coming closer. She tugged at the trap, unable to move its metal jaws. And then...

...there was a light and...

...before her there was a clearing filling up with a blinding yellow light. Through the light came a man, tall but lean with dark hair and unmistakeable ears. Merlin, she tried to yell, but found herself unable to speak. As the trap sliced further into her foot, the light receded. It was suddenly midday and where Merlin had been was a lion bravely charging toward her. As it approached, it changed seamlessly into a unicorn; the silvery sheen of its coat glowing and its ivory horn alight with the brightness that had turned night into day. It trotted up to her and as its horn touched the trap, it sprung free releasing her. She put her bloodied hands on what she couldn't help thinking of as its face and stared straight into Merlin's startlingly blue eyes, their extraordinary gentleness making her feel finally safe.

Thank you, she tried to say but as the words tried to frame themselves a shadow fell upon the day. She looked up to see a man with a broadsword raised above them. She tried to scream but no sound came out as the man plunged the broadsword straight into the unicorn's side. As he fell upon the ground, he changed back into Merlin, lying bleeding on the ground, the sword still lodged deep in his side. He looked up at her, whispered 'Dealthia', and then his head fell sightlessly to the side. Finally she found her voice and...

Screamed...

"My lady, my lady." The Lady Morgana realised she was in her own soft bed in Camelot, her maidservant Gwen in front of her shaking her awake.

"You were screaming, my Lady," said Gwen, "another dream?"

"Yes Gwen," said Morgana, calming down and showing Gwen the unconcerned face she had almost mastered, "it was just a dream."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The beginning, but of what?**

The Lady Morgana stood, elegantly dressed and poised in the Throne Room of Camelot as the heralds announced the arrival of their guests from the distant kingdom of Selice. Yesterday, Morgana had been excited at the thought of the Ladies' arrival in Camelot. Rumour had run ahead of them as they journeyed down from their kingdom in the North, performing their unique musical form in the Courts from Gore and Sorestan to Celidoine.

Although they were performers, Lady Anysthia was the eldest niece of King Hoschelice and it was well known that in the kingdom of Selice women had a greater role in politics than in other kingdoms. Lady Anysthia, it was rumoured, was a powerful landowner in her own right and Morgana had been enthused at meeting such women.

But as she surveyed the Court, her mind kept wandering toward her dream. The terror, the blood, the pain and Merlin, dead. Merlin dead. Merlin cold and dead. She saw Arthur's gangly dark-haired servant standing attentively behind his master in a pose she knew Gwen was emulating behind her. Merlin. Dead.

She couldn't even remember exactly when Merlin had arrived in Camelot. She remembered him saving Arthur's life and then he'd just been there, around, like any other servant. Then he had drunk poison to save Arthur, helped her with Mordred, and risked himself for her when she had run to the Druids. Just a servant but still. Merlin. Dead.

He looked up at her with blue eyes that she remembered could be piercingly observant and gazed at her quizzically. She realised she'd been staring and turned back to the Court. Uther was speaking floridly about the great honour about to be bestowed upon his Kingdom and for once she couldn't disagree.

The heralds finished with a flourish and the doors to the throne room were swung open to reveal three exceedingly beautiful women, as elegantly dressed and poised as the Lady Morgana herself.

"My Lady Anysthia," said King Uther, approaching the slightly older of the three with deep auburn hair and green eyes, "it is an honour to welcome you to Camelot. May I introduce to you my son, Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot and my ward, the Lady Morgana." Arthur bowed and the Lady Morgana curtsied as her eyes once again wandered behind the Crown Prince to Merlin who was... staring eyes wide and mouth slightly open at one of the Ladies who had just walked in. Feeling a twinge of unexpected emotion, she followed his gaze to the Lady in question who collected herself when she realised Morgana's eyes were up upon her. But she could have sworn that the expression briefly on her face had mirrored Merlin's.

"King Uther of Camelot," the Lady Anysthia was saying, in a voice heavily accented. It was obvious that their language was not her mother tongue. "Words cannot express the honour you do us by allowing us respite in your beautiful Kingdom and by receiving us in your Court. May I introduce my younger sisters: the Lady Sasthia..."

With slightly lighter hair and white, clear skin, the Lady Sasthia was perhaps more beautiful but less attractive than her sophisticated older sister. She curtsied and then blushed slightly at the attention. Morgana mentally noted the interest from the younger Knights around the table but also that the older Lords preferred the more mature sensuality of Lady Anysthia. This was certainly going to be an interesting visit, particularly when the third sister's deep-brown hair and green-brown eyes seemed a blend between the youthful beauty and mature sophistication of the other two.

"And this," said Anysthia, "is the Lady Dealthia".

There were other formalities. She was almost sure of it. She even participated somehow. Small talk and stories of the journey undertaken, trials endured, joys experienced. But all the Lady Morgana could see was the fading light in deep blue eyes. Fear, pain, blood, death. She looked at the dark-haired woman in front of her, as her eyes kept flicking unwittingly to Merlin.

Dealthia.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: A feast**

"You're being ridiculous, Morgana," she said to her mirror that afternoon. She was preparing for the evening's feast but somehow her traditional ritual had failed to amuse her. She and Gwen usually tried every dress in her wardrobe until they found the one most likely to cause comment, and of course male attention. And tonight she had some serious competition. But her heart was not in it and finally she had asked Gwen to request a remedy off Gaius to help her sleep that night. She didn't need it; it was a rather transparent attempt to have some time alone.

"Just tell him about the dream," she said to her reflection. She held a blue dress up to see if it suited her. "You can trust him, he's proven that. More than once. And he's shown that he believes your dreams can foretell the future. He won't laugh, or think you're a fool, or tell Arthur."

Suddenly realising she'd been staring at the same dress for a full five minutes, she threw it onto the bed in exasperation and looked back at herself. "What do I tell him? Merlin, you're going to turn into a lion and then a unicorn, rescue me from a bear trap when I'm half naked, and then get murdered by a bandit and the Lady Dealthia has something to do with it but I don't know what." She sighed. "I even sound like a raving lunatic to myself." She looked at her tired eyes, circled with lack of sleep. "If I dreamt it, it's important. I'll find a way to tell him. As soon as possible."

She looked back at the dresses and thought about the look on Merlin's face when he'd seen the Lady Dealthia for the first time. Danger, death, and animal transformations aside, she was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom of Camelot and there was no way the men of Camelot were going to be looking at anyone but her tonight. She picked up her most daring creation and smiled.

* * *

Compared to most neighbouring kingdoms, Camelot had a reputation for sophistication. Diners mostly used cutlery instead of a giant carving knife, the kitchens had learned to prepare meals slightly more complicated than "roast beast", and, while feasts regularly degenerated into food fights, people were rarely injured or killed. As such, women more frequently attended and prisoners were almost never torn apart by wild animals for entertainment during the meal.

Tonight, Uther had obviously chosen to exceed all expectations. As Morgana walked into the dining hall, trailing a grinning Gwen also in a new dress, she was briefly stunned by the light and beauty before her.

"My Lady," exclaimed Gwen, running up beside her and viewing the brilliantly-lit chandeliers, pools of illuminated water and the new tapestry lining the whole of the wall. Uther had commissioned it after success in a battle one year ago and had chosen this evening to unveil it.

"Merlin," she said and Morgana realised he'd entered behind her. Gwen ran over and grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room and holding one of his hands in both of hers. He gave her one of his grins that seemed to light up his whole face and kissed her on the cheek. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" asked Gwen. She looked up at the tapestry but Morgana noticed his eyes scanning the room until they alighted on the Lady Dealthia and her sisters chatting animatedly to a group of Knights on the far side of the room. "No Gwen," he said, with an intensity she had only seen in him when straits were dire, "I have never seen anything so beautiful." And Morgana told herself that the plunging feeling in her stomach was jealously that another woman was getting so much attention. Maybe if she repeated it enough times, you may even believe it.

"Now, how is it possible that you look as though you're not having a good time," said a wry voice in her right ear and she turned to face Arthur who was looking at her with some amusement and not a little smug arrogance. "Could it be that not every male eye is upon you this evening, hmm? Could it be that you have some competition?"

"Competition is healthy, Arthur," said Morgana archly, refusing to rise to his bait, "you of all people should be aware of that. And besides, I only just arrived. I don't possibly see how I could be having a good time when no handsome knight has yet offered me a drink."

"Well then, my Lady, let me procure one for you this instant."

"I said 'handsome', Arthur, 'handsome'. If you find a man that fits the description, feel free to send him my way."

She smiled as he laughed and then laughed herself as she headed off into the gathering. Trust Arthur to lighten her mood. But as for Merlin, well, she'd just have to look for her moment. Once dinner was served, he and Gwen's duties would begin and for now they were too busy to enjoy themselves. Getting his attention now would bring too much attention to herself. Attention she could do without. A knight started as she walked past, staring in frank admiration as she passed by. Now that attention, however, that was more like it.

As she approached the tight group on the other side of the room, she began to feel more like herself. "My Lady Anysthia, Sasthia," she greeted them and then turned to the third woman in the group, "My Lady Dealthia, I wanted to come over and tell you how much I admire your gown. It is truly one of the most stunning creations I think I have ever seen."

Dealthia turned to her and smiled with genuine pleasure free of arrogance or unnecessary modesty. This was a confident and self-contained woman. "Thank you, Lady Morgana, but I cannot take credit for its choosing. I was truly blessed to have this given to me as a gift by a Frankish Prince visiting the Court of Celidoine. He brought his own seamstress with him and... " Dealthia's voice trailed off as she got distracted and as Morgana followed her gaze it alighted on Arthur. For a brief second, Morgana had a flare of hope that she had completely misread the situation but then noticed that Merlin was refilling his glass.

"My Lady, if you don't mind me asking, who is that young man tending to Prince Arthur?"

"Merlin," she said, trying to keep her tone light. _Pain. Terror. Blood. Death._ "That's Prince Arthur's manservant, Merlin." _Dead on the ground and cold. Blue eyes sightless. _

"Knights and guests of Camelot," Uther's strong tones broke through, sparing Morgana of having to make further conversation, "tonight and for the next three weeks we have the extraordinary pleasure of company noble, talented and fair. Tonight we welcome the Lady Anysthia and her two sisters to Camelot. This humble feast we have prepared in your honour and we look forward in great anticipation to your performance. Now please, eat, drink and be merry. Dinner is served."

Dinner was indeed served although Morgana didn't remember eating it. She watched Dealthia and Merlin but could not see either why her dream would warn her about the woman or the glances between then she had noticed earlier. There were courses, toasts and conversation but it all passed as in a dream until...

"Damn that useless servant of mine. Where is he?" Arthur, seated as usual beside her, exclaimed suddenly. "I sent him to get me some more wine an age ago. What could he possibly be doing that would take him this long?"

And with a pit forming in her stomach Morgana looked around the room and suddenly realised.

Both Merlin and the Lady Dealthia were absent.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Sometimes a dream is just a dream**

"You're being ridiculous, Morgana," she said to her mirror the next morning with an odd feeling of déjà vu. Gwen had laid out her clothes for the day and was currently in the other room doing her mending. Morgana smiled at the thought that it was probably Arthur's mending as well. Merlin tended to delegate those things and he and Gwen had a fast friendship.

"Gwen," she said, raising her voice to attract the other woman's attention.

"Yes, my Lady," she answered, coming into the room with one of Arthur's shirts in her hand. Morgana looked at it and smiled.

"Doing Merlin's mending as well, are you?"

Gwen smiled and laughed a little. "Oh yes, you know Merlin. He's been so busy with Gaius lately he asked me to help. I don't mind."

"I know, Gwen, which is why I wanted to ask. I mean, I know it's a personal question and I hope you won't be offended but, well, I always wondered if you and Merlin..." her voice trailed off as she saw the look of incomprehension in her servant's eyes. "You know," she began again, "you and Merlin..."

"Oh," said Gwen with a smile, "me and Merlin? Oh no. I mean, when we first met I, well, but then we," she stopped looking a bit flustered," and then of course I met La... I mean, someone else and then, well that didn't...but then I thought that I, maybe..."

Morgana smiled almost to herself, "it's ok, Gwen," she said somewhat wryly, "I'll take that for a no. Still, he's an attractive young man in an... angular kind of way. Surely there must be someone...?"

Gwen looked at her frankly. "Well, it's so hard to tell with Merlin, my Lady. I mean, he'll do anything for anybody. Sometimes I think it's easy to mistake affection for, well, Merlin just being Merlin." She smiled. "He gets this look on his face sometimes. I call it the 'damsel in distress' look. It's right before he does something idiotic like..."

"...bursting into the throne room and declaring himself a sorcerer to save a friend's life?" finished Morgana and they both laughed at the memory. Although Morgana knew it was a painful one for her friend, she also knew that Merlin's willingness to sacrifice himself gave her comfort and security.

"Yes," Morgana said, turning back to the mirror and thinking of the previous evening, "you're probably right. Sometimes Merlin is just Merlin."

She'd panicked. She'd been a fool and panicked when she saw both Merlin and Dealthia had left the room. She'd stood up and swept out of the dining room, leaving Uther and Arthur wondering what on Earth she was doing leaving the feast early through the servant's entrance. She had walked out into the passageway leading to the kitchens and Merlin had been right there in front of her with Arthur's wine.

"Merlin," she'd exclaimed with relief and he'd given her a confused grin and asked what he could do for her. To her horror, she'd found her usual calm intelligence had fled and simply said, "um, nothing," and had then stood aside to let him pass. "Milady," he said as he walked by, still looking confused but also slightly concerned at her unusual behaviour.

She'd gone back into the dining room and left by the main door. In the hallway on the way back to her room she was politely greeted by the Lady Dealthia heading toward the dining room and went back to her chambers horribly embarrassed. It was an emotion only heightened when Merlin had knocked on her door as she was retiring and offered her a sleeping remedy from Gaius. He'd felt that maybe she needed to get some more sleep.

Now in the light of a new day and having had a restful, dreamless, night, she felt like a fool. If she was honest, since the Druids she'd felt that Merlin was her only ally in a kingdom of potential enemies. That he knew her secret and not only kept it but treated her the same way he had before? She wasn't sure she could have survived the first few weeks without that support. And then there was the way he had discredited the Witchfinder, whose mere presence had terrified her and who had obviously been preparing her pyre even as Gaius' was being built. Maybe on some level she did feel that he'd saved her. Was maybe even frightened that something would happen to him and she would lose the only one who knew who she really was. She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. Lions and unicorns and bright lights and animal traps. Sometimes a dream was just a dream.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Sometimes a dream is more than just a dream**

Hunting was something the Lady Morgana enjoyed but rarely got to do. As with so many things, Uther was often torn between wanting her to be happy and maintaining the standard of behaviour he expected of his ward. Her Grandmother had hunted to her heart's content but when the Purge began, more than just magic felt the fist of a new law. In many cases, witches and independent women were often seen to be synonymous. Those who had no male relatives, took lovers out of wedlock, or were merely free with their opinions, found sudden barriers slammed down hard around them.

Female knowledge, such as contraception, abortion and even those herbs that eased the pain of childbirth, was banned. It was said that, like magic, they perverted the natural order and it didn't take much intelligence to see which gender was busy determining what the natural order was.

Morgana knew all this and sometimes railed against it in her heart but she had not known the freedom of her forebears and had no older female relatives to whisper to her their complaints. She knew only that she loved the thrill of the hunt and was glad for any opportunity that eased the restrictions upon her.

The arrival of the three Ladies from Selice had proved miraculous in this regard and once the strange terror of the dream had passed, Morgana found herself enjoying their company a great deal. Uther was loathe to deny the more liberated women their pleasures and even seemed pleased that Morgana had other woman to keep her company.

In the Lady Dealthia she had found a kindred spirit. Only one year older than the King's Ward, she was more intelligent and outgoing than her younger sister and more forthright than the elder who seemed sometimes to obfuscate for amusement. She was also calmer and more reasoned than Morgana, seeming to make less emotional decisions and providing good advice when Uther's ward felt herself acting irrationally.

It had been two weeks since the feast and Morgana had ridden out hunting with the three women almost every day. It was threatening rain but nothing was going to keep her from the hunt. When she arrived at the stables, however, she found that only the Lady Anysthia was riding out. When she enquired as to the reason, the Lady Anysthia smiled her somewhat cryptic smile and explained that the others had decided they had more important things to attend to.

They mounted up and headed out of Camelot flanked by their guards but didn't get very far when the rain made good on its threat. The skies opened for a deluge and the Ladies had no choice but to turn back.

Morgana strode with annoyance back into the Castle. There were only a few days left until the Ladies departed and she imagined her freedom would be once again curtailed after they had gone. "Damn it," she said to herself as she stopped in the hallway. She was so angry for absolutely no reason. It probably _was_ dangerous for her to ride out of Camelot alone. She could take Gwen of course but it wasn't as if she was a good horsewoman. "Doesn't stop Arthur from dragging his servant from pillar to post with no training as a Squire," she muttered.

With a deep breath, she decided that confiding in Dealthia was more important than being dry and anyway, the Lady was likely to have a fire going in her chambers. With only a slight hesitation, Morgana diverted her steps to the guest rooms, stopping only to remove her sopping-wet cloak.

She knocked on the Lady Dealthia's door but got no response. The door was unlocked. "She won't mind," she said, and swung it open, noting with relief that indeed the front room did have a roaring fire. "Oh, thank you," she said, laying her cloak down in front of the fireplace to dry and standing in front of the flames. She gloried in the feeling of her body slowly defrosting; closing her eyes slightly. And that's when she heard the voices from the bedroom. She opened her mouth to call out but slammed it shut when she realised one of the voices was male.

What she _should_ do warred with what she _wanted_ to do for only a fraction of a second before she quietly made her way to the door separating the two rooms, thankfully slightly open. Without moving it, she positioned herself so she could see through the crack. Her eyes took in the bed and the riding clothes set out but unused. Standing against the far wall was the Lady Dealthia, still in her nightgown and, in front of her, kissing her softly on her lips, jaw and neck was Merlin.

His arms were around her waist and her fingers were entwined in his black hair as they embraced and neither of them seemed inclined to end their encounter any time soon. As she watched, transfixed, he gently took her hands from his hair, captured her mouth in a deeper kiss and moved his leg between hers, pinning her against the wall with his hands holding hers above her head. His lips moved to her collarbone and she moaned his name and Morgana suddenly realised exactly what it was she was doing and fled.

She was halfway to her room when all the emotions hit her. It was hard to sort between them but above the surprise, and shock, and disapproval, and jealously, and arousal, she felt fear. She didn't know how what she'd learnt related to her dream but it came back in full force. _Pain. Terror. Blood. Death._ _Dead on the ground and cold. Blue eyes sightless._

She made it back to her chambers somehow to find it thankfully empty. Gwen believed she had gone riding for the day and would be getting her own chores done at home. She sat down on the bed and sat in reverie, her mind spinning with the image of Merlin (bumbling, clumsy Merlin, Merlin with the skinny legs and big ears who once reduced herself and Arthur to laughter-induced tears when he had expressed surprise that people didn't try to hang ornaments off him during the Midwinter Festival), _Merlin_ with a woman in his arms. And not some young serving girl smitten by his big smile and kind heart; no, a sophisticated noble woman who owned her own property and spoke five languages.

She thought of that small moan of pleasure then jerked her thoughts back in a more pertinent direction. The dream. Somehow this related to the dream. Any scenario she had conjured was now rejected. "I should have told him," she said out loud. "However ridiculous I felt, I should have warned him."

How long she was stuck in her reverie, she didn't know, but winter had only just faded into early spring so it was probably not surprising that the sun was much lower in the sky when she was jerked out of it by a knock at her door. She opened it to find Merlin standing there with a somewhat ambiguous look on his face and her riding cloak in his hand. "Milady," he said, still respectful and still running the two words together as he had always done. "I think maybe we need to talk."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: The Lion**

"Milady," he said, handing her the cloak she had left in the Lady Dealthia's front room, "I think maybe we need to talk."

"I'm not entirely sure I know where to start, Merlin," she said, probably a bit more forcefully than she meant to, "she is a guest at Camelot and a noblewoman. I mean, I know you're an idiot but this, _this!_ Uther, Uther would have your head if he found out." She hadn't intended to shout but all the emotions she'd been struggling with combined into one ball of anger.

She rounded on him for a second volley but found only his gentle eyes staring patiently at her and her anger died in her as quickly as it had fired up. In the gloom, they appeared dark, almost black rather than the blue they were and she had a brief flashback to how bright they were in the dream. Bright sunlight. She looked out at the gloomy day and back again.

"Merlin, I have questions. A lot of questions but before I ask them I need to tell you something."

She turned away, pacing to the other side of the room and back again as she so often did when she was in turmoil. She turned to him, hoping her voice wouldn't crack and show how upset she was.

"You know, when it comes to my dreams sometimes I feel like I'm going mad. Since the fire there hasn't been any," she paused at the most difficult word, "magic," she paused again and took a deep breath, "but I do dream now and then and sometimes they come true."

He gave her that intent and understanding look he gave her whenever she talked about her dreams, "I know, milady, and you can trust me. You know you can."

She was briefly astonished at how quickly he had adapted to the fact that they weren't talking about his relationship with Dealthia but then remembered who she was talking to. She took a deep breath and just decided to say it outright.

"Two weeks ago, I had a dream," she started, "a more obscure dream than usual. So obscure that I convinced myself that it meant nothing but... after realising you and the Lady Dealthia have some kind of...connection...it's made me realise that I should have told you, no matter how insane it's going to sound."

She paused, finding herself completely unable to find the words to say what she was trying to say. She remembered when she had first confessed to Merlin that she feared her dreams and the fire were magic. That look on his face was the same one he had now. He was just waiting to hear what she had to say.

"I barely know where to start. I was dressed in nothing but my shift. I don't know why and I, I was running through the forest," her voice broke slightly as the emotion of the dream overcame her, "I was terrified. Someone was chasing me, a man, and he was going to," she paused again to take a deep breath, "hurt me," she finished quickly and turned away to face the other corner of the room.

"I got caught in some kind of animal trap and I couldn't get free and suddenly I saw, I saw a bright light. My shift was covered in blood, I forgot that bit, and I saw a blinding golden light. It was almost so blinding, it was so beautiful. And you came out of it and you, you turned into a lion and ran toward me and then you changed into a unicorn and your horn sprung the trap and set me free."

"And then this man appeared out of nowhere, some kind of bandit, and," she paused again taking a deep breath and turned around to face Merlin sitting on a chair next to her bed in the winter twilight, "and he killed you."

"I mean," she said quickly, seeing Merlin had taken a breath to speak, "I mean, he stabbed you with a broadsword and you lay on the ground and you turned back into you and before you died you said, 'Dealthia'."

She looked at him expectantly. Half of her hoped he'd tell her she was crazy; the other would have been furious with him if he had done so.

"And you're so worried because you had this dream_ before_ the Lady Dealthia arrived?" he asked quietly.

She expelled a relieved breath. "Yes, Merlin, it was the night before she arrived.

He nodded thoughtfully then walked to the window looking out upon the square with the pensive look he got when he was trying to work something out. The silence extended.

"Merlin, please, say something."

He looked at her, leaning again the sill. "Milady, I think the dream is obviously metaphorical. I doubt I'm going to change into a unicorn to save you from an animal trap. It's a warning but as to what it means," he dropped his eyes and she wondered if he was embarrassed by talking about Dealthia or if he was lying, "I don't know."

"I can tell you something, though. I do not think the warning is about Dealthia herself."

"But Merlin," she exclaimed and strode toward him. He waved his hand at her and she stopped. He looked down again and this time she saw it was faint embarrassment.

"If I was to die," he said, looking out the window again, "I mean, if I knew I was dying. I can tell you that my last thought would be of her." He looked back again and said softly, "It would be natural that with my last breath I would speak her name."

Her heart stopped for a second in shock and she looked up at him, seeing how serious he was. For a brief second, she was struck by the intense feeling that the Merlin she felt she knew was not the man who stood before her; that there was a side of him that she had simply never seen. Confused, she said, "but you've only known her for two weeks and in a few days she's..."

"...going to leave," he finished, "I know. It's difficult to explain but from the moment we set eyes on each other in the Throne Room that very first day... it was like being hit with a bolt of lightning." And suddenly, with one big, slightly goofy smile, he was the Merlin she knew again. "That first night at the feast we kissed and I suddenly thought, this is madness. I don't even know her and why start something that's almost ended already? So I told her, no, it was inappropriate."

"What happened?" Morgana asked, her fear forgotten in sudden curiosity.

"Well, milady," he said within a faint smile hovering around his lips, "she turned out to be... remarkably persuasive." He grinned and she found herself laughing with him.

He made for the door but as he passed her, he took her hand. In the time she'd know him, she couldn't remember him touching her and she suddenly realised just how tall he was. He was so modest and unassuming, she'd always thought of him as short.

"Milady, don't worry about this dream. The images are obviously representative of something we don't understand yet. There's simply nothing we can do. I can tell you that the Lady Dealthia is no threat to me and I very much doubt she's the man you fear in the woods."

With that, he kissed her hand and left her with her thoughts. And her thoughts were: I need the other side of this story. And she determined to seek out the Lady Dealthia in the morning.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: The Unicorn**

"I think I know what you're here to talk to me about," said the Lady Dealthia.

Morgana had found her easily enough the next day. Camelot was preparing for a tournament to farewell their guests and several of the Court's noblewomen had gone down to the field to watch the Knights practice. As they subtly separated from the other woman, Morgana looked down to see Merlin carrying Arthur's armour across the tournament field and having a joke with Gwen. In the light of day, what she had seen and heard yesterday seemed even more unreal.

She'd slept poorly, unable to take her mind off the image of Merlin and Dealthia, the way he'd spoken of her, and the disturbing images of her dream. The more she thought about it, the less likely she found it that Merlin's romantic notions about Dealthia could be mutual. His insistence that the dream was metaphorical had led her to conclude that his death in her dream could be heartbreak. Merlin was her friend and there was no way she was letting some noblewoman play with his emotions for her own amusement.

She'd intended to approach the subject quietly, getting Dealthia to incriminate herself before she revealed her anger but, as they stood there, Merlin tripped, armour spilling everywhere, and Dealthia laughed.

"How dare you?" Morgana spat at her in fury and Dealthia looked at her in surprise, "How could you do this? He may just be a servant and a clumsy one but he is a good man. How dare you treat him like he's, he's some sort of plaything?"

Dealthia opened her mouth to speak but Morgana wasn't ready to hear whatever justification or denial she had.

"I cannot believe that I welcomed you, called you a friend even, and all the time you were scheming to seduce the most innocent man in the kingdom. Anyone with half a brain can see that Merlin is a romantic and you just had to take advantage of that. What's the matter? Would a knight be too challenging? Too demanding? Merlin would do anything for anybody and you, you used him!"

Morgana finally had to draw a breath and in the split second silence, the Lady Dealthia quietly said, "I love him."

Morgana was brought up short on her next tirade. Totally nonplussed, she looked down at the gangly young man currently gathering up armour with the assistance of a giggling Guinevere and couldn't stop herself saying, "but it's _Merlin_."

The Lady Dealthia laughed fondly and looked down at him. "Yes, milady, it's Merlin. From the moment we met, it was like, like," she looked back at Morgana, "well, I think Merlin's already explained that to you. But even if that wasn't the case, I can't imagine me not feeling this way about him. Nor do I believe I wouldn't have noticed him. Merlin is... beautiful."

"Beautiful," Morgana repeated incredulously.

Dealthia gave her a look of amusement and, strangely, appraisal. "Yes, Morgana, he is beautiful. Don't worry, one day you'll look at him and you'll see it. Beautiful but also...Merlin... Merlin is intelligent and compassionate and kind and selfless, with an incredible drive to protect the people he cares about."

Morgana felt herself unable to do anything but stare open-mouthed at the woman before her.

"You know, My lady," Dealthia began, cautiously, "unlike Uther we don't believe that all magic is evil, nor do we believe that all things that cannot be explained are magic."

Morgana froze, terrified suddenly that Merlin had betrayed her. She could scarcely believe he'd do such a thing but if he was truly as enamoured as he'd seemed then…

"Do you know why all our names end in 'thia'?" Morgana stared at the woman nonplussed at the seeming non-sequiter. "My name of course is actually 'Deal', my sisters' Anys and Sas. This 'thia' is an, I guess you would call it an acknowledgement of status. Like your surname announces your paternity, mine represents a certain gift that runs in my family. It is a kind of true sight. We don't see past and present but, in a way you could say, we see what's _there_. My mother and grandfather had the gift and I do. My sisters do not but share the name because of their antecedents and because the gift can skip a generation."

Morgana simply nodded, not sure where she was heading; just grateful she didn't seem to know about her dreams or her magic.

"When I first came to Camelot, I entered the throne room and _saw _you all. I saw Uther, his bright spirit being eaten by the canker that is his hatred of magic. Arthur stood there with his duty and his heart side by side. I could see the war that raged between the two but could also see that he would eventually live comfortably with his conflicting motivations. I saw you, all fire, ready to burst into flame. And I saw your maid, soft heart running for any who would give her love in a world where it had been taken away."

"And I saw Merlin."

And with her back to her, looking down at the raven hair of the man she apparently loved, Morgana supposed that Dealthia never saw the reaction her next words inspired as she kept going; seemingly now in her own world.

"Merlin with the heart of a lion and the soul of a unicorn..."

Morgana felt her legs fold under her and her mind reeled with what the Lady had just innocently said. Dealthia continued and each word was like a hammer in her stomach.

"...such bravery and purity of spirit, it shines out of him like a light so bright I don't know how everyone around him isn't blinded. And that light reached out to all around him, surrounding and enveloping them, protecting them. Strongest above Arthur; but reaching out to you, your maid and even Uther."

"Don't worry, My Lady, one day you will see," she said, turning back and suddenly noticing Morgana's distress. "My Lady, are you alright."

And Morgana forgot all her wariness about her gift and choked, "a dream, I had a dream and," she looked up and suddenly realised where she was and that she was talking to a woman she barely knew, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm saying. I should return to the Castle. There are preparations to be made for tomorrow's tourney."

"Of course, My Lady," said Dealthia and she turned to go but stopped suddenly and hesitated for a brief second before turning back. "You know, as I said, my people don't believe that everything unexplained is magic. True dreams, for example. We believe that there are those who are seers. They have magic and true dream all the time. But we believe that nearly everyone has true dreams at some point."

The fear that had washed over the Lady Morgana as Dealthia had used the images in her dream abated somewhat as she felt compelled to ask.

"Have you ever had a true dream?"

"Once," she replied, "just once."

"And?"

Dealthia smiled. "Before I came here, My Lady, I dreamed there was a unicorn in the Court at Camelot."

And with that, she was gone.

* * *

Thanks so much for all your comments, guys. This is my first story and it's planned to be quite a long one. In my head, this is the end of Part 1 of 3 parts. Part 2 may take a bit longer. Any and all critique is welcome and I'll hopefully have the next part ready in a week or two.


	8. Part 2 Introduction

**Part 2: Introduction**

The Lady Morgana would be the first to admit that she didn't make things easy on herself. Even when she could see the clear path, she often chose the long way. Sometimes out of stubbornness, but mostly out of a deep desire to assert her independence against all the things in the world that tried to control her. Uther, the complex and hypocritical social mores of Court, even Arthur in his own annoyingly-heroic way. But in this case, she had to concede that she had gone too far.

Morgana tensed against the bonds binding her hands and feet and tried to breathe properly; not an easy feat when you have been slung over a horse. As she forced herself to calm down, she surveyed the men who were holding her. There were at least 15 and at first she had thought they were the bandits Arthur had been concerned about. Now she realised they were too clean, their armour too well cared for; they were simply too _cohesive_. No, these were Morys' men, Morys who had sworn humiliation and vengeance upon Uther. Morys had set a trap for her and like a fool she had stepped right into it.

And if she looked back over how she got here, she had to admit that once again it had started with a dream.


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: The Calm Before**

Morgana jerked awake, the terror fading quickly but the stark images of the dream remaining. Then she gave a sigh, almost of relief, as she realised that the message of this dream was clear and unambiguous. It was late but she hesitated for only a second before covering her nightgown with a cloak and heading to Gaius' apartments. _"A light that reached out to all around him, surrounding and enveloping them, protecting them,"_ Dealthia's musical voice said in her mind.

Merlin would know what to do.

She had run to Gaius' door and pounded before she realised that she hadn't thought her actions through. She'd gone to sleep at moonrise but now it was pitch black so dawn couldn't be that many hours away. Merlin and Gaius would be deeply asleep and she would find it difficult to explain to Gaius why she'd awoken them. To her relief, a tousled, sleepy-eyed Merlin answered the door. He stared blearily at her for a moment, as if trying to decide if she was real.

"Milady," he said finally, "um," and he gestured with the door in a way that meant, 'I'd ask you in but the power of speech is not quite possible yet'. Inside, he stumbled around finding some flint to light a candle. She briefly couldn't understand why the flint wasn't somewhere more handy but dismissed the thought as irrelevant a moment later.

"Is Gaius here?" she asked and she was grateful when Merlin simply shook his head. Candles lit, he put some water in a pan over the fire and then finally acquired the power of speech.

"Gaius has gone to one of the villages nearby. There's a plague there. I'm handling most of his regular Camelot patients."

"You?" she said, even as her brain pointed out that this was not what she had come to talk about.

"Well, it's mostly preparation of remedies they've been taking for years," he said and added in the clipped way he had when he was being ironic, "I believe his exact words were, 'Merlin, even you can't stuff that up'." He grinned and they laughed together companionably. She took a deep breath, amazed at how much calmer she felt just by coming here.

"Do you need a remedy, Milady, or did you have a dream?"

"A dream; thankfully a pretty straightforward one. No animal transformations or blood-soaked shifts." They both smiled, although she often thought about the dream with a sense of dread. She'd never before had a dream like that without it coming true soon afterward. Merlin had said it was a warning, but of what?

"There's a beast in the forest heading this way. Arthur and his knights will ride out to meet it and Sir Gawain and Sir Godfrey will be killed. Arthur will be seriously injured. I saw the beast in the dream. I did not recognise it, but conventional weapons seemed useless against it. And I thought, well, running hysterically to Arthur to tell him about my dream will achieve nothing. I thought maybe you might have a suggestion."

Behind him, the water started boiling so Merlin dedicated himself to making them some tea. He placed the brew on the table before her and she warmed her hands. Spring was halfway gone but the nights were still chilly.

"Well, the first thing we need to do is to identify the beast. Can you describe it?"

"It looked like a dragon."

Merlin started, a strange expression on his face. "A dragon?"

"A small one. It was only 10 metres long, and thin, almost like a water serpent. It did not breathe fire and did not appear venomous. It bit Arthur but in my dream he was not ill as he was with the Questing Beast. It killed Sir Gawain and Sir Godfrey by, well, it appeared to be trying to eat them."

"Not a dragon then," he muttered, although she wondered how he could be sure. There had been no dragons in the land for nearly 20 years. He stood up from the table and began rummaging through a pile of books left at the bottom of the bookshelf. Morgana sipped her tea and felt the warm liquid slide down her throat.

Merlin brought several volumes back to the table and Morgana was surprised to see dust fly from some of them, coating his sleeping trousers and grey sleeping shirt. He smiled sheepishly and explained that some of the books had been in a storage room in the library a long time before he'd taken them home to read.

"In the library?" she exclaimed, "Geoffrey barely lets anyone in. I can't imagine him letting someone take books home."

"Oh, I was in there so often, I think he was just glad to get rid of me."

She contemplated the thought of Merlin in a library. "Honestly, Merlin, lately I feel like everytime I turn around I find out something about you I couldn't have imagined."

His face fell very slightly and she regretted mentioning the Lady Dealthia, however obliquely. It was not something they'd discussed since the musician's party had departed nearly a month before. He had failed to attend to his duties at their farewell, much to Arthur's annoyance, and ever since had thrown himself into work even more than usual. Between Arthur and Gaius and, she now realised, independent studies, she couldn't remember a time he wasn't in motion, scurrying about the castle, always on some mission. She surveyed his cheeks, collarbones and long fingers. Was it her imagination or was he even thinner than before?

"Ahh," he said, looking down at one of the volumes, "I think your beast is a wyrm."

She stood up and walked round the table to his side, looking down at the snake-like creature on the page. The writing was in Old Welsh, so she was amazed yet again when Merlin started translating. "It says it's related to dragons, eats buildings, livestock and people, is impervious to standard weapons, and, oh, it doesn't exist naturally. It... it can only be called forth by an evil deed or a powerful sorcerer."

"Are you telling me someone will send this wyrm after the Knights of Camelot deliberately?" She looked up into his worried face and was once again struck by how tall he was. How could she keep forgetting? She realised that she was both standing too close and only dressed in her nightgown. She took a few steps back. "We have to find a way to warn Arthur so that he can prepare. Maybe I could tell him that I heard a rumour or that there was a messenger from one of the outlying villages..."

"I think it's more important that we find a way to kill it. Warning Arthur won't help if it begins decimating entire villages and we have no way to destroy it. It says here that if you cut off any of its limbs, even its head, they re-attach. As for whoever summoned it..." He shrugged his shoulders.

Morgana smiled softly; grateful to him for taking charge. She put her hand on his arm. "Thank you, Merlin." He nodded inscrutably at her and went back to his books.

"I'll do some more research and let you know what I find out tomorrow. And Milady?"

"Yes Merlin."

"Try to get some sleep."

"I could say the same for you, you know."

"Oh, I couldn't sleep now. I have Knights to save. And will I get any thanks?"

"No?"

"No."


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: The Storm **

"Merlin, finally! Where have you been? I've been over half the Castle looking for you."

Arthur's booming voice announced his presence outside Morgana's room. Inside, she was dressed and brushing her hair, hoping that no one had noticed her late-night excursion. Gwen had already remarked on her sluggish morning, looking somewhat suspiciously at her cloak that had moved in the night.

"My apologies, Sire," replied Merlin's cheeky tones, "and what does His Royal Pratness need done today?"

She smiled widely at this piece of insolence but also in frustration as she realised that Merlin must have been coming to report on his research. He'd have to go and tend to Arthur's needs now.

"Well," continued Arthur in more subdued tones. Morgana suspected he was trying to keep his voice down in case she was in her room. It was not something he was very good at, "if you're finished _mooning_ around outside Morgana's room, there are a few things that I need done. Actually, they're things that I needed done yesterday and the day before as well. You should know them well by now. They're called 'your job' and they're all the things you _don't_ do."

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Sire," said Merlin gravely and Morgana had to stifle a laugh.

"There's some sort of Beast threatening some of the outlying villages. I need you to prepare my horse, chainmail, armour and sword. I take an expeditionary force of Knights to investigate tomorrow morning and I expect everything to be ready. Oh, and Merlin, _you're_ coming with me. Try to stay upright."

They obviously began to walk away; their voices receding with the occasional exclamation of "idiot" and "prat". Morgana wondered, and not for the first time, why the two didn't just admit they were friends.

"Pardon me, My Lady, did you just say something?" It was Gwen, who had come in from cleaning the other room.

"I was wondering why Arthur doesn't just admit he and Merlin are friends. I suppose he wonders what people would say. That's Arthur for you. Always worrying about being the man his father expects him to be." And she smiled inwardly at Arthur thinking it inappropriate for a member of the nobility to be _friends _with Merlin. If only he knew...

"Very true, My Lady," sighed Gwen, and Morgana was astonished to see a look of resigned sadness on her face, "Well, at least you don't care what people think about your behaviour. Not... not that there's anything wrong with your behaviour. I mean, I doubt people would think there was anything wrong with your behaviour... if they were thinking about your behaviour... which they're not... but even if they were then... then you wouldn't care... is what I mean."

"I have a dress to mend...oh, and the King requested your presence in the Throne Room... and some flowers came for you this morning. There's a message with them." And with that, Gwen left the room quickly in embarrassment.

Morgana smiled, glanced briefly at the flowers but decided she had more important things to attend to. If they already knew about the wyrm, maybe she could find a way to warn the King that it was invulnerable. She left her chambers and made straight for the Throne Room.

"... and what do we know about these bandits? Do they have anything to do with the rumours that Morys has sent troops across the border?"

Morgana entered the Throne Room to find Arthur with a map of the Kingdom spread before him, obviously briefing his father on the security situation.

"No, Father," said Arthur, "there are rumours that Morys is moving to prepare for war but the reports on these bandits suggest they have come from the East rather than the West. If I may, Sire, I understand that Morys has sworn to avenge his brother's death, But he has frequently said that his revenge will start with your humiliation, which of course hasn't happened yet. These bandits are here and they are plundering villages, seemingly at random. To protect the people, we need to..."

"Yes, very well," said Uther. "You're right, of course. Once you've dealt with this beast to the North, I want you to hunt down these bandits and bring them to Camelot for trial. A few public executions will bring comfort to the people that we are protecting them. And then we can deal with Morys."

"Thank you, Father," said Arthur curtly.

"Who will you take to slay the beast?"

"Sir Gawain, Sir Godfrey, Sir Agravain, Sir Gareth, Agloval, their squires and Merlin."

Morgana started as a terrible thought occurred to her. Merlin. An invulnerable beast. _Dead on the ground and cold. Blue eyes sightless. _

"No!" she exclaimed. Arthur and Uther both looked at her sharply, confusion etched on their features. "I mean," she started, racking her brain for any reason for her outburst that would sound plausible, "Gauis isn't in Camelot and Merlin is taking care of all his patients. Merlin may not be an adequate replacement for Gaius, but if he leaves, Camelot won't have a physician at all."

"Morgana's right," nodded Uther, to her amazed relief. "As astonishing as it is, the boy has been preparing my tonics for me since Gaius left and has been doing a good job. It would be better if he stayed in Camelot. It's not as if he's going to do you much good against the Beast, is it Arthur?"

Arthur looked as though he wanted to argue but let it go. Do it Arthur, she found herself thinking. Admit that you don't need him there, admit you want him. Admit you just feel safer when he's around.

And as if he had heard her thoughts, the courtier walked through the doors and announced Merlin.

"Sire," he said, "if I may have a moment. I've been doing some research based on the reports Arthur gave me of this beast."

Oh well done, Merlin, she thought. And then she thought, I always thought he was a poor liar...

"I understand Gaius would usually advise you but with him gone...."

"Of course, Merlin, please give me your advice," Morgana was astonished for the second time at Uther valuing Merlin's talents. Could it be he didn't think him as much of a fool as he made out? She glanced at Arthur who seemed equally taken aback.

"Sire, the beast appears to be a wyrm."

"A _verm_? What is that?"

"It's a kind of relative of a dragon, sometimes called a European dragon. It isn't poisonous, nor does it breathe fire, but it does eat anything and quite voraciously. If it isn't stopped it can devour whole villages, buildings and all. All my research suggests that if you chop off its limbs, even its head, it will re-attach itself. However," Merlin continued quickly, seeing that both Arthur and Uther were ready to intervene, "I believe that if you manage to cut its heart out and burn it, it will die."

"And you're sure of this," asked Uther, seriously.

"Yes Sire, more than one book speaks of it dying this way."

"Well then Arthur, you know what you have to do."

"Yes Father. I'll finish the preparations for our departure immediately." And with a nod to Merlin to indicate he should follow him, both were gone.

"Now Morgana," began Uther, turning his attention to her. "As you've heard, things are tense at the moment. Between wyrms and bandits and Morys, the country outside of Camelot's gates is dangerous at present. I know you've had an unusual amount of freedom in the last few weeks but I'm afraid that has to end. From now on, you are not to leave the town without an armed escort. In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't leave the town at all."

Inside, Morgana felt the fury rise up in her. Arthur was about to ride out into danger with only a few armed men but she wasn't to leave at all? It was intolerable. Thankfully, self-preservation kicked in before her mouth could run away with her and she calmed herself before saying, "of course, Sire, I respect your wishes in this matter. You are obviously far more aware of the security situation than I am. I will stay where I am."

"Good, child, I'm glad.

Once out of the Throne Room, she stormed back to her chambers, fuming with the unfairness of it all. To be called child and treated like a, like a frail handmaiden! She picked up a cushion and kicked it, not caring as it sailed across the room and hit the flowers that had been delivered to her that morning.

They fell to the floor with a crash; water, broken glass and flowers spilling everywhere. On top of it all was the card and she suddenly wondered who her admirer was. She supposed it was some knight she would have to thank profusely. She would never admit it to anyone, but the flowers Merlin sometimes brought her when she was down were her favourite. Unlike the expensive ones before her, he always picked them himself.

She picked up the card, pulled it from the envelope and read the contents, disbelief leading slowly to excitement.

"My Lady Morgana

I hope you do not mind us contacting you in this way. We were too scared to send a message any other way. My Lady, we are some of the Druids who escaped Uther's purge. We contact you because it is rumoured that unlike him you are sympathetic to our cause. We need your help but dare not come to Camelot. There is a crossroads 5 miles west of Camelot. Please meet us there tomorrow afternoon. Do not tell anyone, even someone you trust. You will only endanger them and us. And please, come alone."

And as she stared at the card in her hand, slowly being blurred by the spreading damp, she smiled. Arthur would be leaving Camelot in the morning and Uther only noticed her when he needed to. Stay in Camelot? Not likely.


	11. Chapter 9

Morgana tensed against the bonds binding her hands and feet and tried to breathe properly; not an easy feat when you have been slung over a horse. As she forced herself to calm down, she surveyed the men who were holding her. There were at least 15 and at first she had thought they were the bandits Arthur had been concerned about. Now she realised they were too clean, their armour too well cared for; they were simply too _cohesive_. No, these were Morys' men, Morys who had sworn humiliation and vengeance upon Uther. Morys had set a trap for her and like a fool she had stepped right into it.

"Come alone." What kind of fool when faced with a note like that actually _goes alone._ With a sinking heart, she looked back at her surreptitious exit from Camelot and knew that no one was aware yet that she was missing. She had not even told Merlin or Gwen, her usual confidants. When they discovered she was gone, they wouldn't even know where to start looking.

"Stop struggling, Milady, you will only tear your beautiful skin." A coarse hand came down upon her wrist, fingering it familiarly. The sensation was unpleasant and with a rising terror she knew that she was helpless against it; alone and completely at the mercy of these men. And if Uther was right, neither Morys nor the men who served him had any honour. The coarse hand moved slowly up her arm and she bit down on it; utilising the only weapon she had available.

She fell off the moving horse with a grunt as the hand slapped her across the face. She lay on the ground, stunned, for a moment before being pulled up harshly by one of the men.

"Enough," said a commanding voice, "she's to remain untouched until we reach the castle." A fetid piece of cloth was pulled tight around her mouth and she was unceremoniously dumped back on the horse to ponder with horror the word, 'until'.

They travelled like that through the afternoon and the night. Morgana had no notion of their location or their destination, as any hope of rescue faded with the day and the fear grew during the night. As dawn broke, they came out of the forest and she could see a hastily-built but nonetheless significant fortification in front of her. Either they had crossed the border or Uther was right; Morys had crossed into the Kingdom and was preparing for war.

As they rode through the gates, they were greeted by a short, grossly fat, man with dirty yellow hair and dented armour. "My Lady," he said, "it's such an honour to meet you."

She was pulled roughly from the horse, her leg bindings cut, and she was held up before him like a trophy for his inspection, arms pinned behind her back and her breath coming raggedly through the cloth as she tried to calm herself. She hoped and prayed that his goal was ransom; her mind didn't even want to consider other possibilities.

"Well," he said, stroking her face in an intimate way that made her skin crawl, "it appears our investment in this plan was worth it. Did everything go as we'd conceived?"

"Yes Sir Morys," replied one of the men holding her, "It appears our Druid friend was right about everything. We murdered a local farmer to summon the wyrm as he instructed. The wyrm took Arthur and his knights from Camelot and the note enticed her out of the caste gates after they had departed. Even if they work out what happened and where she's been taken, they won't have a force to come after her for several days, maybe even a week."

"Well," said Morys, his hand running down her neck to alight on one of her breasts and squeezing, "we'll just have to keep her entertained till then."

Morgana somehow dampened down her panic as a series of men herded her through the gates and down into the bowels of the building to some cells. With a shiver, she noticed that there were almost no women. The hands the men lay upon her wandered and it was obvious they had no fear of disciplinary action because of it.

Her fear, already high, grew to a fever pitch. The fortification may be new, but the cells were well-built. The one they threw her into had a stout wooden door and no window or natural light. As the door slammed shut, she was plunged into darkness and, just for a moment, allowed herself the hysterics she had been suppressing.


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: The Bright Light and the Lion**

She had no idea how long she stayed there, unable to control the sobs that wracked her body. Finally, she fell exhausted onto the straw and slept to be awakened sometime later by voices. How long had been asleep? Was it still day? Night? The next day? She had no idea. Her fear had subsided into a dull terror that ate away at her but allowed her to function.

She began to explore her cell with her hands, trying to find something, anything that would help her to escape. Wasn't it some kind of _law_ that cells had to have windows with bars that allowed heroic Knights to reassure the damsel in distress that he would rescue her or die?

"Be serious, Morgana," she said to herself, "there is no window, there is no Knight, there is no one bravely coming to save you because _nobody knows where you are_. The only one getting you out of this is you. Now, you know how this goes. You find a weapon and when the guard comes in you knock him out and run. Good plan. Just need a weapon. Good plan."

She quickly felt her way around the cell and there was definitely nothing she could use as a weapon. "Unless you want to use the straw to tickle him to death," she said aloud and then starting laughing. A sane part of her mind told her she was in hysterics but at the moment it was a small voice in the back of a sinkhole of black terror. The laughs turned to sobs again and she found herself sinking back into the straw.

"Stop it," she told herself angrily. "Pull yourself together. You are a Pendragon and you will behave like a Pendragon." And she sat in wonder for a moment that she had called herself a Pendragon.

She realised that for all his cruelty, even Uther would not do what it was obvious Morys was planning to do. As an unmarried and unrelated woman living in his Court, she was suddenly well aware of just what her life could have been like if it hadn't been for Uther's fatherly affection.

"When I get out of here, I swear I will be a better daughter. I swear. Just let me get out of this alive and untouched. Please."

And that's when she was blinded by the light.

She'd had a tutor once, oh a long time ago, who had told her that light travelled faster than sound and that's why lightning was seen before thunder was heard. He'd been laughed out of the Court for his outlandish theories. Everyone knew that thunder and lightning were two separate things.

But in her fevered brain, all she could think was that he was right. How else did you explain the blinding silent light followed by the thundering boom as the wall to her cell, the wall to the dungeons, the wall to the entire fortification blew out. She was briefly stunned and covered in debris, half deaf and unable to think properly as she saw the daylight of late afternoon and the castle's inhabitants running around mindlessly.

"Milady," she heard and for a moment she thought her fevered mind had conjured a vision. Then he grabbed her hand and she realised, it really was Merlin. "Milady, we need to get out of here before they realise it was no accident."

They ran through the streets, or rather the worn dirt that served as a street, and she soon realised they were following the other residents; blending in as the crowd tried to escape the catastrophe. A group was forming at the gates and beginning to look as though it would start back to see what had caused the explosion. Before they reached them, Merlin turned them into an alley that obviously skirted the outer walls. There was a door in the wall, which he unlocked, pulling her through into a clearing.

"I'm sorry, Milady, but we have to run and hope we reach the trees before anyone sees us."

She simply nodded, her brain not keeping up with recent developments, and they ran across the clearing and into the trees, thankfully unnoticed. They stopped when they reached a large oak. Merlin scrabbled around in the roots before pulling out a bag.

"Here," he said, handing her the contents, "some men's clothes and a sword. I think you're more capable with it than I am anyway." She stood in mute astonishment for a moment before the adrenalin kicked in and her mind cleared. Merlin had his back turned and she realised he meant for her to change. She quickly took off her dress and white shift and put on the hosiery and shirt. She buckled the sword to her waist then put her clothes in the bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Right, I'm ready but I don't understand. How did you get here, how did you know that I..."

"I'll explain later, milady, but right now we have to keep moving. Morys has dogs that he has trained to hunt people. He will soon realise the explosion was no accident and that your cell is empty. I have set up a false trail for the animals but we have to get the river to mask our scent."

And with that he took her hand again and they ran through the wood to the river, plunging into the icy waters and plodding downstream, the cold slowly leeching into her bones and her exhausted limbs swearing.

They ploughed through for what seemed like hours, although it may have been minutes for all Morgana knew. Time seemed to stretch and thin, making no sense to her as the pain and exhaustion and fear of the last few days wore her down.

Finally, Merlin signalled and scrambled up the bank, turning around to haul her up behind him. Night fell as they walked through the forest into a clearing. "This'll do," he said, and she felt her legs give way underneath her.

He looked at her gently and said, "rest, we should be safe now. I'll go and get some wood and build a fire." He walked off. As he disappeared, she had a brief terrifying thought that he was leaving her for good. She tried to protest but was too exhausted to do anything but lay back on the hard Earth and try to make sense of what had happened.

* * *

**The chapters are just rolling out of me at the moment, as you've probably noticed. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed. There is nothing more inspiring than knowing someone is reading and enjoying your work. I should have most of Part 2 up soon.**


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Safe in the gaze of a unicorn**

She must have dozed because when she looked around again, it was getting dark and Merlin was sitting near her with a fire burning, preparing two dead rabbits to be cooked.

He looked up and acknowledged her with a small smile.

"When I went for the firewood, I did some hunting as well. It's been a hard day. Meat will help you on the journey tomorrow."

"I thought you hated hunting," she said, glad of a conversation topic that distracted her from that cell, from those men. "Arthur says you never stop complaining. He says you're terrible at it."

He just smiled wryly, the flames of the first dancing on his face as he skinned the rabbits.

"I grew up on a poor farm, Milady, and there was rarely enough food grown. I've hunted nearly all my life. Now Arthur and his Knights, they hunt for fun. They hunt because they enjoy the kill. But hunting like that, killing just to kill. No, I can't like it."

"You're too gentle, Merlin."

"As someone who just blew out the side of a castle, I'm afraid I can't entirely agree."

"Yes, how did you do that? And for that matter, how did you find me? How did you know?"

"I knew something was going on. When we farewelled Arthur, your behaviour was... well, milady you had the expression you had before you tried to smuggle Mordred out of Camelot; the one you had when you decided to go to the Druids. I could tell you were about to do something that Uther would be furious about.

"I saw you leave Camelot alone and so I followed you, just to make sure you were alright. When I saw you get captured by Morys' men, I nearly ran back to Camelot for help but Arthur wasn't there and I had no idea where they were taking you. So I tracked you, hoping to rescue you when they were asleep. But they didn't sleep and when we came upon Morys' encampment I couldn't' believe it. He'd come across the border and practically built a castle.

"I scanned the outer wall hoping to find an entrance and I did, as you know. Then I just walked around town as though I was meant to be there. I'm dressed as a servant and, well, I'm not the sort of person that tends to get noticed.

"I only meant to find your cell and then go back to Camelot to let them know where you were but while I was there I heard some of Morys' men talking and...well... let's just say I knew I had to get you out of there before night fell. "

"You don't have to try to protect me, Merlin, I knew very well what Morys was going to do to me. I saw it in their faces. I felt it in the way they touched me. He wasn't planning on being the only one, was he?

"No, milady."

"Uther's humiliation."

"Yes, milady."

"Merlin?"

"Yes, milady?"

"You just saved me from something horrific. I can't bear it if you keep calling me 'milady'. Call me Morgana."

"As you wish, milady. Now try and get some rest. The rabbits won't be ready for a while."

She lay back on the hard ground; the warmth of the fire a welcome sensation on her still-wet clothes. Her mind hadn't quite adjusted to the fact that she was safe.

"Won't Morys find us? He knows we're heading back to Camelot."

"When I was gone, I checked they had followed the false trail I laid. Morys and his men believe we have taken the more circuitous route, which would of course be the logical thing for us to do. Only an idiot would cut downstream and head for Camelot directly." And he grinned his grin. No man in the world had a smile that bright, she thought.

"You've really thought of everything, haven't you? How do you do it?"

"Do what, Milady?"

"Everything that you do, while still convincing everybody you're some ordinary peasant boy; some clumsy servant who follows Arthur around and trips over his own feet. I know, you know. I think I always suspected but Dealthia said it as well and I realised she was right. Whenever we're in trouble, you're always there to help us. I just, I just wanted to thank you."

His eyes flicked to her but he stayed concentrating on the rabbits and she guessed he wasn't used to being thanked. They sat there for a while in silence, the night closing in and the fire burning brightly. The rabbits were finished and Merlin strung them up from a tree and moved off into the night to wash his hands of the blood.

He came back and handed her a blanket she hadn't realised was in the pack and then perched again near the fire, pensively staring at the flames.

"Merlin. Talk to me about something ordinary. Talk to me about something happy."

"Like what?"

"Dealthia. Did you love her?"

"No, it was over too quickly for that. But I could have. If we'd had more time."

"Do you miss her?"

"A great deal, sometimes. Some days more than others."

"Why didn't you go with her? I hear King Hoschelice's court is a liberal one and the women are as welcome to take lovers as the men. Surely you could have been together."

"My place is at Camelot. I belong there. And she belongs in her home and with her music. We couldn't be together without one of us losing the part of them that makes us who we are. And that defeats the purpose in the end."

"But was it worth it? Knowing before it begun that it had to end, knowing she was going to leave, knowing that you will probably never see her again. Was it worth it?"

And he looked around at her, his strong features enhanced by the flames, his eyes gone black as they did in the darkness and he smiled so brightly it radiated out of him.

"Oh yes, my Lady. Yes."

And she looked at him and she saw.

"She was right you know, Merlin. I never noticed before but she was right. You're beautiful."

She laid back warm in the blankets, with the fire spitting and crackling and the stars shining like a million candles in a gigantic chandelier and thought she had never in her life felt so safe than in the middle of nowhere with a single man who was more likely to trip over and impale himself with a sword than defend her with it.

And she slept.


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: I dreamed a dream of dreaming you were dead**

She dreamed that she dreamed. And in the dream she was dreaming.

The images flashed once again through her mind. The trap, the fear, the bloodied shift, the light, the lion, the unicorn, the man with the sword and, once again, Merlin. Merlin lying dead on the ground. Merlin lying bleeding on the ground, the sword still lodged deep in his side. Once again, he looked up at her, once again he whispered Dealthia's name, and once again his head fell sightlessly to the side. And once again she...

...screamed and woke, this time to a dark night and the dwindling embers of a fire. She threw off the blanket and ran to him lying asleep by the fire.

"Merlin," she cried, shaking him, trying to wake him, and as she pulled on his body, his head snapped toward her, eyes wide and sightless, and he was white and cold and dead lying on the ground and she...

...screamed and woke, this time to a dark night and the dwindling embers of a fire. She threw off the blanket and ran to him lying asleep by the fire.

But this time, she barely touched him, barely said his name and he sprang awake and upright. "What is it, what's happening," he yelled and she breathed her relief. He looked around wildly before realising there was no danger and he turned to her, putting both hands on her shoulders and asking her if she was alright.

"I had the dream again," she said, her hand moving to his face, half believing that maybe she was still in the dream; making sure he was alive and real. "No, it was like I was remembering the dream. The images of it in my head," and she felt rather than knew that her hands were fluttering around her ears and felt not for the first time like a mad woman.

"But this time, I dreamed I woke up and you were still dead." She tried to keep her voice even but she felt her emotions bubble over as she spoke, "And I thought, surely what's happened these last few days means the dream is coming true. I mean, I was in a trap and you rescued me and there was a bright light and..." she became increasingly agitated as she spoke and in the end he simply cradled her head into his chest and held her.

She slipped her arms behind his back and held on for dear life, as though she thought he would be taken away at any moment.

"Milady," he said softly, "if I remember your dream correctly, the trap Morys set for you was a literal animal trap. You were practically naked. I literally changed shapes. None of these things actually happened. It's just a metaphor. A warning yes, but a metaphorical one."

She opened her mouth to argue and he put a finger over it.

"Everything that's happened in the last few days simply reminded you of the dream and in the dream I die. But I'm not _actually _going to die, just as you didn't get _actually _get your foot caught, just as you're not dressed only in your shift and you're not covered in blood. My death in the dream just represents something else."

"But what about the other dream? In that you were dead as well."

"And there's no reason to believe that's a true dream. Milady, we're here and we're vulnerable and after everything that's happened it's understandable for you to be worried that the only other person here is going to..._go away_. I know, I wish Arthur were here. He could swagger like the arrogant prat he is and we would feel better just knowing he was here."

She laughed at that and found herself nodding. She put her head back onto his chest and he laid down, pulling the blanket over both of them and softly rubbing her back as one would comfort a small child.

"Don't worry, nothing is going to happen. I'll stay awake until you fall asleep." He kissed her on the forehead, his hand quietly stroking her hair and she felt the air move out of her body, taking her fear with it." Her eyes closed and...

...she dreamed that she dreamed. And in the dream she was dreaming.

But that was last night, she realised as she drifted awake. Now it was morning and she was surprisingly warm and comfortable on the ground. It was the succulent smell of meat and warm bread that had woken her. She lay there for a moment, revelling in a strange feeling of contentment.

Then she heard the horse neigh and sat up in fear. Had they found them? She looked around their small camp and noted the rabbits heating over the fire and a stick with bread on it. A horse was tethered to a tree and from behind it came Merlin. He walked to the fire, cut some meat onto the bread then came over and gave it to her.

"Good morning, Milady," he said, "I'm glad you're awake. We should eat and get going. If we leave soon, we can make it back to Camelot by tonight."

She simply nodded, staring at the horse. Merlin followed her gaze.

"Oh, early this morning I found a local farmhouse and stole a horse."

"You stole a horse?" she said again, absent-mindedly wolfing down the meat and bread. She didn't realise until she started eating how hungry she was.

"Yes, Milady, after yesterday I think you might find yourself glad of it."

"You stole a horse?" Of everything that had happened to her, for some reason it was Merlin stealing a horse that her mind found least capable of processing.

"Well, to be accurate Arthur acquired it for use in defence of the Kingdom. Or something. After we're home, I'll get him to send it back with a note and some money."

He seemed in a good mood but she knew him well enough by now to know that he was doing it to cheer her up.

They packed up their meagre belongings, keeping aside some rabbit and bread for the rest of the journey, and prepared to leave. As they packed, the events of the night, somewhat embarrassing in the light of day, flashed back and she walked up to him and took both his hands.

"Thank you, Merlin," she said, feeling that it was an inadequate gesture.

"You're welcome, milady," he replied.

She smiled at him.

"Merlin, what did I tell you last night about calling me Morgana?"

"Well, milady, you also told me I was beautiful so I put it down to you having had a stressful day. Now we should go."


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: A Shadow Fell Upon The Day**

They reached the Vale of Denarius and just before midday they came upon a small clearing where the river dwindled into a calm stream and someone had carved some logs into a table of sorts. The clearing was in a small valley ringed by the ridgeline of a larger hill but two hours ride from Camelot. It was a spot the Lady Morgana had often come to bathe and picnic away from the crush of the town. She looked in relief on the familiar place and smiled.

Merlin saw the look on her face and paused.

"We can press on to Camelot now milady, or, if you wanted to take some time to rest and," he waved vaguely toward the stream, "I could collect some firewood and make us something to eat. We have several hours till sunset and Camelot is not far away."

"That would be wonderful, Merlin, thank you," she said, looking down at her filthy men's clothes and considering her arrival at Camelot would be eased by cleanliness and proper attire.

Merlin set off to get the firewood, although she knew it was just an excuse to give her some privacy. She shrugged off her clothes and looked around at the clearing. It seemed quiet but she couldn't bring herself to bathe naked. She grabbed her shift and slipped it over her head before sliding into the cold water of the stream. She gasped when the cold hit her but then relaxed as the dirt of the journey washed away. She put her head under the water, rinsing her long dark hair.

As she stood up to bathe herself, she realised the modesty provided by her slip was somewhat illusory, as the white fabric had gone completely transparent in the water. As she looked at her naked body through the sheer fabric she had a wildly inappropriate thought that she hoped Merlin would accidentally come back too soon. She clamped the thought down instantly. She knew the strain of the last few days had taken its toll. It was natural for her to cling to what felt safe. Faced with the rough cruelty of her captors, Merlin's gentleness was a balm.

Feeling suddenly she should make herself decent before his return, she left the stream and walked toward the packs intending to dry off and put on the dress in which she had been captured. As she leant to get the blanket, she heard a rustle behind her and froze.

"Don't let us stop you, milady," said a coarse voice, "by all means keep bending down." She whirled around to be faced with two armed men. She was once again aware that she was to all intents naked and shuddered at the thought. Ill-shaven, filthy and clutching ill-made broadswords, these were not Morys' men but the bandits Arthur had warned her about.

She clutched the blanket instinctively to her chest and then realised that this constricted her arms. To fight them, she would have to just let them see her. And mayhap that would be a suitable distraction, she thought. Still, they were two armed men both twice her size. She thought of the sword Merlin had given her. It was in the pack by her feet. Could she reach it in time? How on Earth could she take them both?

She heard a shout off to her left and as she looked around, Merlin appeared out of nowhere, threw her a sword and launched himself at the first of the bandits with a success borne more out of fury than skill.

She managed to drop the blanket and grab the sword, attacking the second bandit. He was larger and stronger but she had taken him by surprise and he obviously did not have her training. She heard a pained grunt and looked to see Merlin hit the ground grabbing his side and the bandit move to strike the final blow. She plunged her sword into her attacker's stomach between his chain mail and his trousers then ran to Merlin's assailant and rammed her weapon into his kidneys. He dropped to the ground and Merlin scrambled up to his feet.

His arm held his stomach, she noticed, but before she could enquire he stammered between exhausted breaths, "t...two more on the ridgeline. G...got them by surprise. That's where I got the swords. We have to go, milady, I don't know if there are any more."

He turned to leave and had managed to move several feet before stopping still, a strange expression on his face. "What?" she asked, not liking his expression.

"I thought I heard..." He turned his face back toward her, the pensive expression on his face again and...

Time froze.

At least that's how it felt. Suddenly the world was in slow motion and brighter, with more clarity. She could see everything as it happened, as though it had been slowed to reveal itself to her. Merlin's face went from shock to determination in a second but it seemed like several and then he was running and yelling but she couldn't hear. Merlin ran toward her as though he fought through treacle and his eyes flicked to something she couldn't see. She turned her head and there, coming slowly at great speed, was a crossbow bolt. It was headed toward her stomach but she could not move.

She looked back at Merlin and he was too far away. Back at the crossbow bolt and the whole world went into normal speed with a lurch and suddenly Merlin was there, impossibly there, and he pushed her and, as she fell, the bolt whizzed past her arm and thudded straight into Merlin's side. The force propelled him backwards and as he came down he hit the ill-carved furniture before thumping down onto the Earth.

Still.


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: The Sword in the Side**

"Merlin," she cried, "Merlin." She ran the few steps to where he was lying, breathless, the colour leeching from his face as she watched. She caught a sob as her hands fluttered over his abdomen. Blood was beginning to seep through his jerkin and she pulled herself up with a jerk. She had to focus and _think._

She pulled off his jacket then grabbed a knife from the saddlebags and sliced open the shirt around the bolt. "Shouldn't pull it out," she muttered thinking back to her limited knowledge of wounds, "he'll bleed out if I pull it free." She tore off the rest of his shirt and looked down in horror at his exposed chest and stomach.

The crossbow bolt was far to the right side, blood seeping out of the wound that went all the way through him to the other side. But there was also a deep gash above it and a slash across his lower abdomen, just below his stomach. And on his left side... He coughed and she looked up to realise he was conscious. "Merlin," she said, not sure what else to say.

"Five broken ribs on my left side," he said, blood sliding out of the side of his mouth as he spoke. "The two men on the ridge. I caught one by surprise but the second one got me with the side of their sword." His hand moved to the left side and probed. He nodded and she was reminded of his medical training with Gaius. "Five broken ribs and one has pierced my lung. I'm bleeding internally."

He laughed and then sighed tiredly. "Arthur's right. I'm useless with a sword." His eyes closed but she shook him awake. "Merlin," she said urgently, "I don't, I don't know what to do." He smiled weakly. "There's nothing you can do, milady. It's done."

She looked down on his body and realised with a terrified shiver that the bolt was lodged in exactly the same place as the sword in her dream. _It's just a metaphor_. She heard his voice in her head from the night before and felt the kick in her gut as she realised he'd lied. He'd known her dream was true. Of course he had. He'd always believed, always taken them seriously. A small sob escaped as she realised that the dream had warned her this would happen and there was nothing she had done to prevent it. She had wilfully and stupidly left Camelot without a guard and now here they were.

"It's my fault," she whispered.

He opened his eyes, shining, as they did, bright blue in the sunlight and coughed, a small trickle of blood running out of the side of his mouth.

"Don't," he whispered, "don't."

"Don't what?" she said, almost in desperation.

"Milady, you think it's your fault because you had the dream and yet you could not prevent this but the dream gave you nothing that could stop this."

Her tears, which she had tried so hard to hold back, welled up again.

"Then what was the _point_?" she began, "what's...you yourself said it was a warning."

"It _was_ a warning," he took a gasp, the words coming with more difficulty now, "but a warning _to me_. A warning that there would come a time when you would need my assistance. A time after I met the Lady Dealthia," another gasp and he coughed some more, the blood from his pierced lung flowing more freely and his breath becoming more laboured.

"I knew when she left that... that... knew I had to watch...make sure... knew that... so I watched and followed you when you left the Castle alone... The dream was clear... always clear... I could save you or live myself. Knew this time would come... telling you so... you understand... I knew...I chose..."

His breathing quickened and shallowed and he seemed to have run out of words. The Lady Morgana could no longer contain her tears and placed her head upon his heart as they ran down his chest, mingling with the wounds that still poured blood down his abdomen.

"Milady," Merlin's voice was more a whisper now, "can you do me a favour?"

Her astonishment broke through her tears and she stared in wonder at the _idiot_ asking for a favour after having taken a crossbow bolt to save her life. And in the back of her mind she heard the words of the Lady Dealthia, that day in the stands explaining why she loved him. Why did that seem such an eternity ago?

"Gwen. Can you ask my mother to come to Camelot? Gwen has no family. They have been corresponding and in many ways we've been her family. They're both alone now. They can take care of each other."

He coughed again, gaining a bit of strength.

"And Gaius. He won't admit it but he's getting older and he needs someone to help him. Can you talk to Uther about an apprentice? Someone who'll take care of him, help him with the things he can't do anymore."

Once again, he fell silent; white-faced, his eyes losing focus then regaining them as he looked down in disbelief at the bow sticking out of his side.

"There's a bolt in my stomach," he exclaimed as if it was something he'd just noticed. "When did that happen?"

"My destiny," he muttered, now it seemed only talking to himself, "wasn't supposed to be... but no matter what he says, can't stand by and let something terrible happen. His advice was always self-serving anyway. Can't stand by... not when you know... not when you can stop..."

"My destiny."

"Arthur." She looked down and he was looking up at her, his blue eyes piercing her as they could. "Someone needs to protect Arthur. You're the only one, the only one with the power to do so now. Take care of him, milady. Take care... Arthur." His eyes closed, his lucidity over. "Protect Arthur," he muttered, "protect."

"My destiny".

"Well, well, well," said an oily voice behind her. "A damsel in distress; beautiful and half naked and her hero dead. It's enough to make a man's... heart... swell." He laughed with little real humour. "It appears my _quarrel, _ha ha, was with him and not with you, pretty one. And why should you mind, hey? Out here half naked with a servant? It seems it's merely the man that's changed. We should get to it then. Wouldn't want him to die without hearing his rival claim the prize."

Inside her, Morgana felt the old fury. The helplessness and fear and anger of the last few days tore out of her. Her fingers wrapped slowly around the sword still lying next to Merlin's cold white hand.

"He is dying and thinking of everyone in this world but himself," she spit, "don't you _dare_ compare yourself to him."

She looked back slightly so she could make his position behind her and out of the corner of her eye she saw his face. His familiar face. And unbidden came into her mind the dream and the man standing over the unicorn smiling and stabbing. The man.

They say in the rage of battle the world goes red but for Morgana it went black. Black as night as she swung the broadsword with both hands around to slit his throat where he stood. Blood spurted rust over her white shift and ran in the water as she stabbed and stabbed and stabbed his now-lifeless body. And when her senses returned, she realised her throat was sore from screaming and she was covered in his heart's blood and still tearing at his body.

Sensible again, she looked in horror at the sword then threw it from her and turned back to Merlin lying white on the ground. As she touched him, his eyes fluttered open. _Still alive_. "Dealthia?" he breathed, almost a question, as though he had thought for a minute she was there. The dream replayed in her head and she knew he was right. There was simply nothing she could do.

He looked up at her, his eyes focusing for the last time. "Milady, you're covered in blood," he said in confusion, "milady, _are you alright?"_

His head fell sightlessly to the side. The dam finally broke in her and as the hysteria overtook her she put her face to the Earth and sobbed.

* * *

**And that's it for Part 2. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm still a little stunned at how easy it was to write, in fact it seemed to write itself. When I started this, I wrote this chapter and the dream and the rest was kind of "filling in" how we got between the two. I do know generally what I want to happen in Part 3 but I must admit it's a little less clear in my mind. Hope to have something in a week or two but you never know; I could get inspired again.**

**Thanks for commenting. Hope to update soon.**


	17. Part 3 Introduction

**Part 3: Introduction**

How does this begin? With a dream? Then let it be the most important one.

* * *

The battle was done, the field quiet. The fighting was over for today, was over for good. But she knew that another day there would be another excuse, another bloodbath. This did not end. Men remained the same in all places and all times. Bodies lay in front of her but she did not care. She had not wanted this but at the end it had seemed inevitable, each act building upon the one before it until she herself had stopped fighting what felt like destiny.

She looked down at her hands, lined with the years that had passed. Not a drop of blood. And why should there be. After all the scheming and intrigue and manipulation, the actual fighting was done by others as it had always been. The long years had changed her, she realised. There was a time when she would have picked up a sword and fought alongside them. Now she surveyed their broken bodies and did not feel anything at all.

He was on the other side of the field. She looked across at him, two pairs of eyes flashed gold and they met in the middle, looking on the body of a man they had both loved deeply but who had fallen believing she had betrayed him. Maybe she had.

_Is he dead_, she asked without speaking.

_He does not have to be_, he replied, blue eyes turning her inside out as they had always done. _His time may come again_.

_Another metaphor?_ She smiled sadly.

_Perhaps_. He did not smile back and his eyes showed only pain. Like Dealthia, he had always seen what was really there. She could never hide, especially not from herself. She knew only a small part of that pain was because of her but she regretted her role in it nonetheless. He'd always deserved better.

She looked down at Arthur Pendragon's body and this time she did care. Like she had done only once before in her life, she fell to the Earth and she wept.


	18. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Upside down and the wrong way round**

How long had she been like this? How long had she sat on the cool earth, his body in her arms, her tears on his alabaster skin? Later she would be unable to remember; the seconds or minutes or hours of that time blanked clean from her mind. If someone had told her she had sat there for weeks, his broken body in her arms, she would have believed them.

She would see sometimes in her mind the images; stark absolutes of colour. Jet black hair, bright blue eyes, skin so white it gleamed in the sunlight like the hide of the unicorn inside him, and the deep reddish brown of the blood. So much blood: blood staining the white material of her shift, drying slowly in the sun; blood seeping into the ground; blood still sluggishly seeping from some of his wounds. She thought it was almost beautiful.

"I dreamed," she whispered to him, softly. "I dreamed that you were dead." And she reached out a hand and gently closed his eyes because she could not bear to see them so lifeless. And she thought, she thought, maybe there's a chance he's still alive. I am no physician. If I can get him some help, someone to tend his wounds. She thought, I have to get him on the horse and back to Camelot. She thought, I can't. I physically _can't_. She thought, I have to. If there's even a chance, I have to. Because Merlin can't be dead. He's Merlin. He's _there_. He's just always there.

And she'd sat, his head against her arm, his beautiful face against her breast, and she had willed him to live, with every fibre of her being. For the first time, she wanted the magic she knew was within her, wanted it desperately. What she would do right now with such power. It called to her but she did not know how to find it.

And Arthur said, Arthur said they'd found her like that. On the ground in the clearing, his body cradled against hers. They'd defeated the beast quickly with Merlin's instructions and had begun hunting down the bandits as planned. They had tracked them for a day to the clearing and that's when they had found Uther's ward; prone on the ground with three dead men around her, dressed only in a bloody, near-transparent shift and embracing Merlin who was near death.

He'd shifted his eyes a bit as he'd spoken and she knew he'd left something out. Please tell me, she'd begged. I don't remember. I killed the third bandit and went back to Merlin's side and then, and then I remember sitting there with him and then being here. What could possibly have happened that you won't tell me?

And he'd said, he'd said that she was hysterical. No matter how many times they'd told her it was them, told her they were there to take her home, she hadn't believed them. They'd tried to bind Merlin's wounds and put him on a hastily-constructed stretcher but she'd held him closer and screamed at them not to touch him. They'd had no sedatives on them. In the end, they'd had to knock her out with a blow to the head. It was the only way they were going to get them home.

They'd carried them back to the Castle, her with Arthur on his horse and Merlin in the stretcher and when they had come back through the gates of the lower town, it was market day and the streets were full. She had recovered from her blow and they had put Merlin down on the ground and she had sat next to him, just staring blankly into space. Arthur had worried for her sanity. One of the Knights had gone to summon Gaius but Gwen was in the market. Gwen had gone to the stalls for a happy morning of shopping and she'd seen Morgana and then seen Merlin's body lying unconscious on the street.

She'd screamed Merlin's name and run to this side, realising after a minute that Morgana was half naked and soaked in blood and then she had become hysterical and Gaius had had to sedate them both.

And it was so public and there was nothing they could keep secret. The rumours and gossip and innuendo had started and to counter it they'd had to reveal the whole, unvarnished truth. And Morgana couldn't see how that was a bad thing but Arthur had just said that the sooner she starting telling people her side of the story, the better.

And Merlin, she'd asked. I remember thinking he must be dead. It seemed to be, just the ways things were.

And he'd said. Merlin was neither alive nor dead, he'd said. Gaius said his wounds were all but fatal. Gaius said that Merlin should already be dead. But by whatever miracle he is not, he soon will be. Gaius said he had no hope.

And in that moment, her preoccupation with her own grief was so great that she nearly didn't notice the tears sliding silently down his cheeks. Her Merlin was dying. Her Arthur was crying. The world was the wrong way round and upside down. And there was nothing she could do to make it right.


	19. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Interview with a dragon**

_Morgana._

The voice woke her where she sat in the chair by Merlin's bed. He lay in front of her, the moon from the window streaming through onto his bandaged torso and flushed skin. For a second, she had thought it was him that spoke but the bright spark that had flared died when she realised he was still unconscious.

She had dropped his hand when she fell asleep but now she took it again and felt his forehead. He was hot, the fever from the wounds' infection burning him up, and his chest barely rose and fell with each breath. She pulled a rag from the bucket by the bed and poured some cold water onto his face and chest to try to cool him down. She kept the rag on his fevered brow and brought his hand to her face. Gwen had cried when she sat with him but that was not Morgana's way. She just felt angry; angry that she was so powerless to do anything that would really help him.

_Morgana._

She shot up out of the chair as the voice wormed its way into her brain and she realised she had not imagined it. She recognised it from her time with the Druids; a magical being was speaking to her in her mind.

_Morgana!_

She could almost feel where it was coming from. Somewhere down below, under the castle. But there was nothing there, surely. She looked around for a moment in indecision and then followed the feeling, through the main room where Gaius was sleeping on the floor so Hunith could have his bed, out of the Court Physician's apartments, down into the bowels of the castle, and past the cells. There was a staircase there. She could have sworn she'd known every part of Camelot. Why had she never noticed it before?

_Morgana!_

The voice was getting impatient now, as though it knew she was nearby. She grabbed a torch and stumbled down the stairs. There was a passageway leading to an arch and as she walked out onto a ledge, she saw there was an immense cavern. A cavern below Camelot? Who could conceive of such a thing? How did the Castle not collapse? There was a shaft of rock in front of her, scored as though from claws or talons, and the flame from her torch barely illuminated the other walls.

"Hello?" she called out, defying even herself to believe she was scared. "Hello? Show yourself."

There was a flap of wings and, to her horror, a dragon settled on the boulder before her, wings outstretched. As he settled in, a clattering drew her attention to the chain around his leg.

"Hello young witch," it greeted her, with what she could only feel was a grin.

"Hello?" she replied, ignoring the greeting. He had contacted her in her mind; it was obvious he knew of her magic. "Who are you? What do you want? Why am I here?"

"Who are _you_?" responded the dragon, "what do _you _want? Why are _you_ here? _Where_ are you going?" He leaned down and looked into her eyes, her face reflecting in its giant orbs, "What is your life worth, after all? Do you have _anything_ worth living for?"

"I don't, I don't understand."

"No, I don't suppose you do. Well, what do I want? What I want is what you want. In this one thing, our purposes coincide. A happy accident of fate, although one I have to confess I tried to avoid."

"I don't understand, what do you mean? What you want is what I want? What does that mean?"

"It means, young witch, that Merlin lies dying and that is not the way things are supposed to be. I offer my assistance," and it shook its foot with the chain tethered to it, "such as it is."

"You want to help me save Merlin? Why? Is that even possible?"

"Possible? Yes. Definite? No. Easy? Most certainly not. But it must be done. More than just his life is at stake. The fate of all of Albion hangs in the balance."

"The fate of all of A... but it's just Merlin."

To her surprise, the lizard took a gasp of furious breath but then seemed to change his mind and began laughing.

"Yes, I suppose that is an appropriate response. For you. 'Just Merlin', hmm. And for what reason are you standing before me? I say that I may be able to help. What do you say?"

"I say that whatever it takes, I will do it."

"Yes. Merlin once stood before me and said the same thing. He did not mean it. I suspect you mean it even less."

"Merlin... Merlin knew you were here?"

"Of course. We spoke often. He regularly came to me for advice that he ignored. I suspect he sought me out so I could articulate what he _wasn't_ going to do. I, for example, was the one who interpreted your dream." He grinned. "I told him to let your fate befall you. If he had not gone, you would have both lived. And what is about to happen would not be needed. Destiny twists down a different path and unlike Merlin destiny does not care whether you suffer."

"Well witch, from what I know of you, you are uncharacteristically silent."

"I'm sorry, it's too much. Merlin knew you were here, you told him to let them... the fate of Albion rests upon his shoulders... I... what do you mean Merlin stood before you and said the same thing? When was this?"

"When Arthur lay dying from the bite of the Questing Beast. Such bites are incurable."

"But Arthur _was_ cured," she protested. "Gaius said he found a... oh Gods."

The dragon curled up its lip in a smile. "Indeed."

"Then what did he do? Maybe I could do the same thing for him?"

"No, that path is closed to you. You have neither the means nor the opportunity and I think, like Merlin, that you would not have liked the outcome. Unless you want to lose a loved one. But then, you don't _have_ many of those, do you?"

Morgana ignored the insult. It had become abundantly clear that the dragon did not like her; a feeling that was fast becoming mutual. He was, however, willing to help Merlin and that was the important thing. "What do you need me to do?"

"Many things, and quickly. We do not have much time. You must find a stone, a magical stone called the Sangreal."

"The Sangreal?"

"Yes. The stone was forged in the magic of intersecting ley lines. It contains the ancient magic of the dragons that precedes even the Old Religion itself. When wielded by the right person, the stone will give Merlin the life force he needs to heal. This will not be an immediate recovery. He will still take time to heal naturally. But the stone will bring his body back from the brink of death enough so he will be able to mend."

"Where do I find this stone?"

"I do not know. For years I have felt its presence in the corner of my mind but in recent times that feeling has seemed closer. It may be that some traveller has brought it to Camelot, which will certainly make your task easier.

"There will be references in books kept hidden by Geoffrey of Monmouth. He has chronicled many things over the years; things that Uther would have his head for if he knew. I doubt that he will reveal the information willingly but you must find what you need to know.

"Bring the stone to me and I will teach you how to use it. It requires magic and something else; something I hope you may be able to provide but fear you cannot. But we shall see. I would prefer not to be the one to give you insight into the extent of your powers but it appears I have little choice. You do have the magic within you to make this work, something you proved in the clearing a few days ago. You are the reason Merlin is still alive at all, a fact I suppose for which I must give you thanks. Find the stone. Go. NOW."

And with a powerful flag of his wings, he was gone. And despite herself, she thought, he certainly does a great exit.

* * *

**Yes, I know they call him the Great Slash Dragon. I call him the Great Deus Ex Machina. Thank you to the creators of Merlin for giving me this gift. After all, in the context of the mythology, it would have seemed strange for him _not_ to have intervened, surely?**


	20. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Doesn't a quest need a hero?**

Morgana walked back to Gaius' in a pensive mood, pondering what the dragon had told her. Could he be trusted? She supposed she had no choice. She desperately wanted to believe that something she had done in the clearing had helped keep Merlin alive; even though she didn't remember doing it.

As for the rest of what he'd said... what was that Merlin had said to her before he'd... before he'd stopped talking? Something about his destiny? The dragon had said something similar. What had Merlin said? Protect Arthur.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

"_...and that light reached out to all around him, surrounding and enveloping them, protecting them. Strongest above Arthur..."_

Protect Arthur.

He'd saved him from the witch with the knife, saved him from the poisoned goblet. Now she discovered he'd saved him from the Questing Beast. Without Merlin, Arthur would be dead. Arthur who would be King.

There had to be more. Because Merlin had done more than that, hadn't he? Before Merlin, Arthur never stood up to the King. Before Merlin, Arthur cared for the Kingdom generally but not ordinary people specifically. Before Merlin, Arthur could walk by an injustice and not care as long as it was a nobleman inflicting it and a peasant bearing the brunt of it. Before Merlin, Arthur would never have publicly stopped the King's guards collecting extra taxes from his people, like he'd done under the reign of Queen Catrina. Before Merlin, Arthur would never have become the kind of King that the people would love rather than fear.

"Such a King could do it," she muttered to herself, "he could unite Albion."

"My God, Merlin, who are you?"

And dismissed the thought immediately. She knew who he was. A man that conniving would never have done what he'd done for her. A man that conniving would not be lying near death now. But the dragon now, he _was_ that conniving. Tell a man like Merlin to protect Arthur and he'd do it to his dying breath. And in doing so, he'd open Arthur's eyes to a world and a perspective he had simply never seen before.

"He's given him a _conscience,_"she muttered "A walking, talking, bumbling, stumbling, heroic, _idiotic_ conscience. Gods, no wonder he drives Arthur so crazy."

Her mind was preoccupied when she walked back into Gaius' so it took her a moment to register that the chair beside Merlin's bed was no longer unoccupied. Arthur sat in it, his elbows on his knees, his chin on his hands. He flicked a glance her way and his eyes were inscrutable.

"I thought you'd finally gone home to get some rest," he said. "It's nearly morning, Morgana, and you've sat up with him for almost two days straight. Gaius says the night is the hardest time. He made it through. He won't die today. I'll stay with him."

"It's my fault he's like this. I want to stay with him. If I leave him for even a moment, I'm terrified he'll go away."

To her surprise, Arthur just nodded and stood up, stretching.

"To be honest, I couldn't sleep either. I feel like this is the mortaeus flower all over again except this time there is no great heroic quest I can undertake to fix it. All I can do is sit here and watch."

"I know what you mean," she said but gave him a quick appraising look nonetheless.

"Worse still, ever since you gave your full report to Father about what happened he's been so subdued. I thought he would protest at how much time you and I are devoting to Merlin. I thought I'd get one of his great speeches about how he's just a servant and people dying for us is something we'd better get used to. But when I told him where you were and where I was going, he _agreed_ that it was a _good idea_."

Morgana just nodded, "nothing's right with the world, Arthur. Everything's upside down." She moved over to the window to look out at the sleeping town. "I have this feeling that nothing was ever how I thought it was. That the world was always this confused; I was just looking at it all from the wrong angle."

She looked back at him and he gave her a somewhat blank look, "Merlin would know what I mean."

"I'm sure he would, and if he ever wakes up maybe he can explain it to me. Actually, no, that's a bad plan. Then I _really_ wouldn't understand what was going on."

She laughed slightly.

"Thank you, Arthur."

"For what?"

"For trying to cheer me up even when you're just as upset."

"Oh, you're welcome. And don't worry. I have loads of anecdotes that involve me clueless and Merlin working everything out for me. And you're never ever going to hear them."

Her smile was wider now and she nodded.

"Oh come on, Arthur."

"No, my lips are sealed. And so are his if he knows what's good for him. But I can tell you some far more enjoyable stories where I'm the hero and he falls off his horse, or complains bitterly the whole time, or distracts the guards by jumping in front of them and yelling, 'hello, I'm Merlin and I'm here to divert your attention while he sneaks up behind you and knocks you out!'.

"Oh, now you're exaggerating."

"I am not," he laughed, "oh, and you should see Merlin trying to scale castle walls. Honestly, you've never see anyone so useless."

"Arthur! You made _Merlin_, a _manservant_, whose job description involves cleaning floors and getting your breakfast, climb castle walls? Are you insane?"

"Well, I just," and his face fell and he stopped laughing, "I just always took him with me wherever I went and if it involved scaling castle walls or fighting monsters or... I never really thought about it. No matter what I asked him to do, he did it. I mean, he argued with me till he was blue in the face and complained bitterly the whole time but he just, he just did it. Because that's what I needed him to do."

"God, I really am a prat."

His eyes glistened in the candlelight and he stood there gazing solemnly at the prone body on the bed.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Arthur. He was your friend, as much as you tried to deny it. And we all know that Merlin would do anything for a friend. It's my fault he's lying there, not yours."

"You know, when I nearly died from the Questing Beast, after I was better, he came to see me. He was so serious, I don't know why. He told me that I was a great warrior and one day I would make a great King, but that I needed to learn to listen as well as I fought. He was right. He told me... he told me he was happy to be my servant... till...till the day he died."

There was a long pause as he stayed there staying at the ghostly white figure on the bed. Merlin was so tall and so skinny, he barely fit on the sleeping pallet but his body was hardly visible below the thin blanket. He looked like someone who was disappearing before their eyes.

"Arthur," she said finally, "I need your help."


	21. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Footprints in a Library**

"For pity's sake, Morgana, I thought you were supposed to be the devious one. No, don't, no, off to the... no. Morgana! It's right in front of you. Honestly, can I make it any clearer?"

Arthur's furious whispers floated down the corridor behind her, loud in the stillness of the shuttered room.

"I'm sorry Arthur but strangely enough breaking and entering is not something I've ever had to do before," she snapped back at him.

"Oh, so just sneaking and eavesdropping, then."

"Honestly, if this is the way you speak to your Knights then I don't understand how you can command their loyalty."

"I have a Kingdom to defend, Morgana. I can't afford incompetence."

"Well, I have a magical stone to find and I can't afford this. Argh...got it! Come on, we've got work to do."

The latch tripped finally and Arthur and Morgana crept into the darkened and deserted storage room underneath the library. They had sat and discussed their options and had very soon realised that walking into the building and asking Geoffrey for his secret texts on illicit magical items was unlikely to bear fruit. They had already searched every book in Gaius' chambers under the pretext of looking for a heretofore-unknown cure and Gaius had good-naturedly humoured them. Gwen and Hunith had helped, without of course knowing exactly what it was they were looking for.

"So, how did you find out about this cure, anyway?" asked Arthur.

"Sneaking and eavesdropping," replied Morgana.

"That's not an answer, Morgana. Eavesdropping on whom?"

"If anybody found out who they were, they would be executed without trial. I'd rather not tell you."

"Fair enough," said Arthur resignedly, "but I could note that it won't just be their head on the chopping block if we're discovered."

"You're Uther's only son; he would never kill you."

"What about you?"

She paused for a moment, unsure if she wanted to let him know the depth of her feelings on the subject. In the end, she decided to trust him.

"If I died trying to save Merlin, it would be worth it," she said softly.

"I understand you're grateful to him for what he did for you but... I've never seen you like this before," he said. "Even with Gwen's father, even with that Druid boy, you seemed as though you felt what was happening was some kind of personal affront, as though it was _you _that was being injured. Now you seem... different."

"I feel different," was all she said. "Come on, we need to find this book."

They surveyed the room with a sinking feeling. It had taken them nearly an entire day just to peruse the books in Gaius' library. When night had fallen they'd realised it was the perfect cover for their crime and gone to the library without resting. The storage room was twice as large as the physician's and filled with books from the floor to the ceiling. It was obvious people came here rarely, although Morgana smiled when she saw the long, skinny footprints in the dust leading to a shelf where a number of books were obviously missing from their previous resting place.

"You're smiling. This is going to take us all tonight, tomorrow night and the next. And you're _smiling_. What on Earth are you smiling at?"

"Nothing," she said. "Come on, we'd better get on with it."

They each picked a book at random, starting with the contents, introductions and index; cursing as they found volume upon volume without any of these. Two hours went by and, if anything, the pile of books in front of them seemed larger. Morgana stood and stretched, assessing the room for a minute and trying to think of anything that would help their search go faster.

"Arthur," she said suddenly.

"Yes," he said distractedly.

"Those footprints over there are Merlin's."

"Ignoring the terrifying fact that you recognise his _footprints_, I'm not entirely sure why that is important."

"Geoffrey lets him in here to find books. He lets him take them home."

"Why on Earth would _Merlin_ want books from a library?"

"For his studies."

"His...what... how do you know this?"

"That's not important, Arthur. What's important is... we ignored the main room of the library because the information we want is forbidden knowledge. Geoffrey wouldn't leave it lying around for anyone to find. Why would he let Merlin in here if he knew he could find something that could get him beheaded?"

"Oh Gods," he said, throwing his half-read copy of _Methodes for the Dissection and Preparation of Animales for Education and Gastronimation* vol. III-VI_, "we're wasting our time, aren't we? It's not here."

"No. My source was good and he tol... I heard him say that it was here. Geoffrey wouldn't keep it on him, it's too dangerous. It has to be here. Look for a fake wall or a secret passage or..."

"This is not some romance novel, Morgana. You're not trying to sneak out to see your lover."

"Arthur!"

"Fine."

They began tapping along the walls, looking for levers or secret storage places or a hollow sound. The room was rectangular with large bookcases covering two walls. As they finished their inspection of the two that were clear, they looked at the cases with trepidation.

"It's behind there somewhere," said Arthur, "isn't it?"

"I suppose it must be."

"Brilliant."

The next hour was spent divesting the bookcases of their books and then moving the cases away from the walls. Although this hadn't been what Morgana was expecting Arthur to be doing on their "quest", she was nonetheless glad he was there.

As they pulled the second bookcase to the side and set it down with a thump, there was a hollow noise from the cold stone floor. Arthur looked at the floor contemplatively, moved the case off it and then tapped it with the heaviest volume he could find. It echoed and he and Morgana looked at each other in frustration. It had never occurred to them to check the floor.

"Look, the mortar around the paving is filed away," said Arthur. He looked around for a moment, then took out his dagger and pried away the piece of stone. Below the floor was a hole in which lay a large rectangular box. He pulled it out and handed it to Morgana.

She opened it eagerly and suppressed a cry of excitement when she saw it contained a book. Oh Gods, she thought, let this be it. She pulled the book out and with it came a small innocuous brown bag. It dropped onto the floor with a loud thud and her heart began pounding furiously. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't be. It couldn't be that easy.

With trembling fingers, she picked up the bag from the floor and slowly opened the fastenings. Oh Gods, please. Just give me this. Please. Please. She upturned the bag and a smooth grey stone fell onto her palm. The Sangreal.

"I have to go," she said to Arthur vaguely, but even as her feet tried to carry her out the door and to the dragon, he grabbed her and spun her around to face him.

"Morgana, I don't know what you overheard about this cure but all we have right now is a stone and a book. Don't you think we should read the book?"

"I... I...."

"Yes?"

"I suppose you're right," she said, realising it was either agree with him or explain everything. Oh, and by the way, Arthur, I am a seer with magical powers and your servant was appointed by a dragon chained underneath Camelot to be your protector until you unite all of Albion. No, it was probably best to humour him and find a way to slip away later.

They both sat down on the floor and opened the slim volume, noting with relief that the writing was not that large. It turned out to be a journal written by Geoffrey of Monmouth about a great quest undertaken by a mysterious knight to find the Sangreal. After the knight had been killed, Geoffrey had taken the journal and the Sangreal back to Camelot and hidden it for safe keeping.

The journal was thankfully not long and scattered throughout were learnings Geoffrey had obtained on his journey; things he'd discovered about what the Sangreal could do and how to make it work. And there, right in front of her was the knowledge the dragon had been going to impart to her. The one thing that made her the right person to wield the stone to heal Merlin. The one thing he thought she may not be able to give.

"Oh," she said.

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*Yes, I am aware that gastronimation is not a word. Just a disclaimer in case you wanted to point it out.


	22. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Things I could only tell you when you were dead**

Morgana sat once again in the chair beside Merlin's bed, one hand holding his, the other caressing the hair on his forehead. He was breathing easier now, she was sure of it, and the fever seemed finally to be abating.

Gaius had dressed him in a sleeping shirt for the night but she pulled it up to look at his wounds, unwinding the bandages with feather-light hands and touching the livid skin around the slash marks and the sutured hole in his side. She could swear the infection was receding, the skin looking healthier and less swollen around Gwen's neat and tiny stitches. The best seamstress in Camelot had certainly earned her pay.

She remembered as a child her mother comforting her after an injury and almost without thinking she pressed her lips to his cuts to kiss them better. Then she rebound his wounds and sat beside him wondering how she could be so happy and so sad.

Confident she had been successful; Arthur had taken the Sangreal and the book back to the library. He'd told her he was happy to right the room and put everything back where it was before they'd been there. He'd seen the look on her face and knew she couldn't bring herself to leave Merlin's side.

In the other room, Hunith and Gaius still lay sleeping, although dawn was not far away and they were both early risers. Gwen would also rise with the sun, she was sure, and she would come immediately to check on Merlin. Morgana had only this brief time before she had to share him with the rest of the world.

She and Arthur had returned from the library quietly. The moon had set and the streets were dark and they managed to slip through the quiet night and into Merlin's room without drawing any attention. Arthur slipped the stone out of the bag and it glowed faintly in his fingers. Morgana smiled at that, although she knew he wouldn't get the joke.

"Here, I have to do it," she'd said.

"Why?" he'd argued, "What did the book say? All I read were boring passages about what inns they ate at and how gloriously noble Sir 'whatever-his-name-was' is."

"You're not exactly a scholar, are you Arthur?"

"That's hardly an insult, Morgana. Scholars don't precisely embody the knightly virtues."

"As our future king, Arthur, I'd like you to know, I think we'd all benefit from knights embodying the scholarly virtues."

"I won't need to know anything. That's what advisors are for."

"What a terrifying prospect for all of us. Now. Give. Me. The. Stone."

"Fine." He'd handed it over and began to pout, but stopped very quickly when he saw the Sangreal flare up in her hand. A deep orange light began in its heart; spreading quickly and illuminating it like a jewel, turning golden at the edges and brightening the room like the sun.

"Gods, it's beautiful."

She smiled slightly, moving over to the bed and leaning down beside it; her raven-black hair pooling on the bedclothes as she bent over Merlin. She pressed the stone to his heart and closed her eyes, trying to recreate the feeling she'd had in the clearing. She wished she'd spent some time developing her magic but would just have to hope this would be as instinctive as last time. As before, she sat and willed him to live with every fibre of her being.

The Sangreal's surreal light deepened and strengthened and the unearthly illumination grew in intensity until she could not bear to look at it. She put her head on Merlin's chest and the light moved through his body as though it strengthened and re-enforced him, hopefully pulling him back from that dark place he resided.

She could hear his heart pounding softly beneath her cheek and as she lay there she was sure she could hear it strengthening. The light finally died and she stayed there for a moment, briefly frightened to look at him.

"Did it work?" asked Arthur.

"I don't know," she said, handing the stone back to him, "I think so. Or rather, I _feel_ so." She watched him slip it back into the bag as though it were a burning coal and she remembered how difficult it must have been for him to defy his father like this.

"Thank you, Arthur," she said, "even if this doesn't work. I know how hard this must have been for you. Thank you."

"My father says all magic is evil but I, I just can't see how something forged to heal could be so. Merlin has nearly died for me so many times. If there was a way, I had to help."

"Come, we'll sit with him for a while and see if we can notice an improvement."

He'd just nodded and given her the chair, standing by the window until Merlin's improvement had become obvious and it was time to return the beautiful illicit thing they had stolen.

And now she sat beside Merlin, fearing the time when she would hear the sounds of life stirring in the other room. The town would awaken and she would be the Lady Morgana, the King's ward, with duties and responsibilities and this moment would be lost forever in the endlessness of a life pre-determined by her birth.

She sat beside Merlin and thought of the one thing that made her the right person to wield the stone to heal him. The one thing the dragon thought she may not be able to give. She remembered how the Sangreal had flared in her hands and brought him life and a single tear ran down her cheek.

She leaned toward him and kissed him softly on the mouth. "I love you," she whispered.

And then she stood up and she left.

* * *

** I was planning to keep you in suspense longer but there lies the power of reviews. Particularly ones where there's begging ;-). Thank you, thank you, thank you once again for such positive feedback. The rest of Part 3 is incoming.**


	23. Chapter 20

**Wow, this chapter totally kicked my ass. I can't get it right. Still, it needs to be in here for the rest of the story to work, so here it is. Frank and fearless feedback would be more than welcome.**

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Chapter 20: Who are you?

There is a memory the Lady Morgana has. She has kept a memento of it in a drawer and takes it out sometimes to smile fondly at the small moment of unexpected laughter in her life. It had been so innocently done and she had kept this token in the same innocent spirit. Yet now, when she pulls it out from under her clothes and lets her mind wander back, it sends an excited shiver down her spine. She holds the keepsake in her hand, perusing it again and again, her heart thumping erratically in her chest.

It was just a joke, a piece of fun on a silly afternoon. But it is a piece of him. And as she tucks it back into her draw, she decides. She needs to know what she does not yet know. So on a rainy day when Merlin is still unconscious but healing, and all are preoccupied with his care, she visits the dragon.

* * *

"Tell me, what were you going to do? You told me that I had to bring the stone to you to learn how to use it. You told me you didn't think I could give what needed to be given. If you didn't think that's how I felt, why send me on a fruitless mission? You must have had a plan. What were you planning on doing to... prepare me for what was needed?"

The dragon gazed down on her for a moment. He had not been surprised to see her, a fact that had irked her more than she would admit. Nonetheless, his mood had softened toward her somewhat. Healing Merlin may not have changed his opinion of her, but it had certainly helped.

"Why do you want to know?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Maybe, but let us pretend I do not. Why do you want to know?"

"I..."

If it was possible for a giant reptile to roll his eyes, than that was what he was doing.

"You have already cured him. This is no secret. And yet you cannot bring yourself to say it. Why do you want to know?"

"Listen you, you, ridiculous riddle lizard, I asked you a question. You will answer me. What were you going to do?"

The dragon sighed and then leaned in toward her conspiratorially, "I was going to show you who Merlin is."

"I know who Merlin is," she replied quickly.

"Yes. I believe that's true. You made the Sangreal work and you did this on your own. You surprised even me. But what a man is at his core does not define all that he can do."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Why do you think the words laid down by destiny speak Merlin's name in concert with Arthur's? Why does the future I'm trying to create require his presence? A simple farmer from a small village?"

"Merlin's a good man. A great man. Arthur would never become the kind of king that could unite the land without Merlin's influence."

"True. But Arthur could also never become the king he could be if he were dead. Merlin protects Arthur."

"I know that."

"And how do you think that's possible?"

"The same way he protected me. With his heart and his soul."

The dragon laughed; a small mirthless exclamation of breath. "If that were the sum of Merlin's gifts, Arthur would have died by Mary Collins' hand."

"I don't want to hear this," Morgana nearly shouted at him and turned to leave.

"Yes you do. Because you've wondered. Because you're here." And he crouched down even further, his eyes almost seductive. "I can show you."

And he breathed a small sigh in her direction and she...

...spiralled down and then she...

...rose up out of her body and over the rooftops of Camelot and...

...witnessed the time passing, the seasons turning, the wheel of life grinding backwards so she could see...

...Merlin using magic to stop time so he could pull Arthur away from the knife and...

...Merlin using magic to enchant Lancelot's spear so he could kill the Griffin and...

...Merlin using a spell provided by the dragon to kill Sigan and...

...Merlin using a magic staff to kill Sophia and her father before they could sacrifice Arthur's soul to buy their return to Avalon and...

...over and over and over again, Merlin using magic to save them or help them and she never noticed, never knew. And then the dragon showed her...

...Merlin blowing out the side of the castle with a mere flick of his wrist; a simple incantation and a flash of golden eyes. She had never seen such power. And he showed her...

...fires lit, rabbits caught, false trail's laid, horses stolen, doors created in walls where none had existed before, a bandit hiding on a ridgeline watching her bathe being struck by a violent ball of light, another bursting out and slashing Merlin down the side, breaking his ribs with his sword before being blasted away like the first. And she remembered the sensation of time slowing just before the crossbow bolt hit and realised she had been inside his spell, her magic allowing her to perceive what he had done to get to her in time.

"Stop!" she yelled, "I can't, I can't handle all of this. It's too much."

And it stopped. She looked down, trying to steady her feet. There was grass beneath them and blue skies above her. Around her were the ruins of some ancient castle and in the middle of what had once been a building stood a woman, a beautiful woman, with black hair and a red dress.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

"Nimueh," said Merlin.

Flashes of images ran through her mind; her dream, the Questing Beast, Arthur injured, Nimueh handing Merlin a cure and talking about some sort of deal and then...

"Back again so soon, warlock?" the woman said and Morgana looked toward the entrance and saw Merlin. Warlock? She supposed he was. Gods. Merlin a warlock. Her mind shuddered away from the idea, even as it knew that all she had seen spoke to this truth. He was a sorcerer and a powerful one.

"What have you done?" said Merlin, and he was so angry, so commanding, that for a moment she did not recognise him.

"Your mother is safe. Isn't that what you wanted?" replied the woman he had called Nimueh.

"Have you killed him?" asked Merlin. And for the first time, Morgana noticed the body of Gaius at Nimueh's feet.

"It was his wish."

"I bid my life to save Arthur's," he cried, "Not my mother's, not Gaius."

His life for Arthur's, thought Morgana. The dragon. That path is closed to you. You have neither the means nor the opportunity and I think, like Merlin, that you would not have liked the outcome. Unless you want to lose a loved one. Oh Merlin.

Flashes again of Merlin's mother ill, him saying goodbye to Arthur, I'm happy to be your servant till the day I die, Gaius' letter and then...

"You too are a creature of the old religion. You should join me," said Nimueh and for a brief mad second Morgana had an image of the two potent sorcerers and the magic they could wield and shuddered at the thought. The power. The temptation.

"You think I would join forces with such a selfish and cruel magic? Never."

"So be it," said Nimueh and she cast a fireball that hit Merlin square in the chest, carrying him backwards and onto the ground. Morgana knew it was but a memory but she cried out for him nonetheless, even as she stood proud of his fortitude. She did not know if she could have the strength to turn down such a possibility.

Nimueh turned away. Behind her, Merlin stood up, his blue eyes radiating a fury Morgana had never seen in them before. She had never seen him angry. He was terrifying.

"You should not have killed my friend," was all he said and he put his hand to the sky and clouds rushed in to fill some hole that had not been there before. And in the silence she realised that he hadn't even spoken an incantation; just willed it to be. A bolt of lightning burst from the sky and Nimueh was incinerated with a howling scream...

...and Morgana was...

... vaulted back into her body, lying on the floor on the cavern ledge, the dragon surveying her with giant ironic eyes.

She lay there for a moment, her mind unable to blend the gentle, gangly man she knew with the enchanter who could annihilate with a thought. It's like hunting, she thought. She saw an image of two dead rabbits and bloody hands and him telling her he hunted for survival but didn't like to kill for killing's sake.

"Nimueh was a rabbit," she whispered.

"And you imply that I speak in riddles," said the familiar voice and Morgana struggled to her feet and turned to face him.

"Did you really believe that I would only notice him if he was powerful," she yelled at the dragon, "that I would only love him if I saw him wield that power? Did you think I am that shallow? That arrogant? That self-absorbed?"

"Yes." he replied, simply. "You were brought up to respect power, to want it, to believe that if you marry a powerful man, that power will be yours. Everything you have ever done right or wrong was for your own selfish reasons, is that not so? You even tried to kill Uther; not because he executed Gwen's father but because he did it despite the fact you asked him not to. So was I wrong?"

She went silent, turning her back on him, trying to hide from the truth.

"No," she said quietly, shaking her head, "You're not wrong. You wanted me to tell you who I am. I am all those things and more. But he is none of them. And because of that, I love him."

In front of her, the dragon smiled the first truly genuine smile she had seen from him.

"And that is the second time you have surprised me. Very well. In this case, there are two more things you need to see. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

He breathed once again in her direction and this time she saw Merlin arguing with the dragon; her horror growing as she realised what they were talking about. To think that all this time, he knew.

"The sorcerer Tauren is plotting to kill the king." Merlin was saying, "He has made an ally of Morgana. I don't know what to do."

"Do nothing."

"What do you mean? If I do nothing, Uther will die."

"Only if Uther dies can magic return to the land. Only if Uther dies will you be free, Merlin. Uther's reign is at an end. Let Arthur's reign begin. Fulfil your destiny."

"Where does it say my destiny includes murder?"

And as Morgana tried desperately not to watch, but could not help herself, she saw her and Uther ride out with Merlin in pursuit. She watched, her eyes moist with tears she refused to shed, as he killed two of the attackers, the third dropping by her own hand.

"How could he have known all this time and treated me no differently?" she whispered.

There was no answer as the scene shifted and once again she was in the cavern, Merlin arguing with the dragon and oblivious to her presence.

"If I do not go, something terrible will happen to her. You yourself have said the dream is clear."

"The dream is clear. It is her safety or your life. She will be damaged, she will suffer, but she will live. If you go, you will die."

Merlin simply gritted his teeth with determination and without hesitation replied, "Then I die."

The scene shifted back and Morgana found herself once again alone with the dragon. She felt turned inside out, as though her life had been stripped back and been found wanting.

The dragon leaned his long neck back and gave her a look she had never seen before. It was almost empathy, almost understanding.

"When I speak of destiny, Morgana, I speak of the things that are written and the things I have seen in my mind's eyes; as a seer dreams dreams of truth. I see the future. You will too. In some ways you already have. But we are not infallible, as you know. We see snatches, half-truths, and obscure images. We see what things could be, but also what they could be in a different way."

"In many ways, child, you and I are the same. I too twist and bend and manipulate to try to make the world more to my benefit. Merlin says I am self-serving and he is not wrong. In this, you and I are cut from the same cloth."

"There is a dark time coming, Morgana, but in your years it is a long way away. In mine, it is but a heartbeat. Sometimes I do not see the mundane lives of those who live between my heartbeats."

"I tried to avoid this outcome because it muddies the waters of my visions. It makes things complicated. You make things complicated. But you also surprise me. I think perhaps that if certain things are still inevitable then this is the better outcome. If darkness has to fall, then one may as well enjoy the light."

And before he could clarify what he meant, he took off from his perch and was gone.

* * *

Back in her room, she pulls out of her drawer the folded piece of paper with a stem of dried lavender tied around it. She thinks back a year ago, before Dealthia, before Morys, before she knew all she knows now. Merlin was in her room, although she can't now remember why, when a servant had delivered a love letter from a Knight. It was so poorly written that she and Merlin had shared a joke about it. Gwen had intervened and told them it was the thought that counted. Merlin had laughingly said he could do better and she had dared him to.

Morgana sat down once again and read Merlin's love letter; the sheer simple beauty of it reminding her of why cared for him. She knew she should be angry with him for keeping his secret this long. She tried to muster the emotion, determined to hate him for lying to her so often and so well, even if that hatred only flared for a moment. Her anger is an old friend, blazing up when needed. But now that old friend has moved away and she cannot find her. She can feel nothing but love and in the end she binds the note back up again and puts it away. And then she resumes her post at Merlin's side.


	24. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: What do you want?**

"Have you seen my manservant? Honestly, the idiot has got to be the worst servant I have ever seen. He's messy, he's tardy, his ability to scale castle walls is quite frankly embarrassing, and now he's gone and got himself a gigantic hole in his side."

Arthur's voice boomed out over the streets of Camelot and more than just Morgana craned their heads to look and stifled a laugh. Such scenes had become quite common since Merlin had recovered and it was a show the ordinary people seemed to enjoy.

"I don't know where he could have gone," came Merlin's lively reply, "but I don't think you should be so hard on him. I'm sure he does his best considering he's working for such an ass. Honestly, if I was employed by such an arrogant prat, I'd probably skive off too."

"Oh, I'm a prat, am I?"

"And a royal one."

Arthur put his arm unashamedly around Merlin's shoulders and they walked off together trailed by Arthur's new servant, Malcolm. Merlin was still not allowed back to work but Gaius insisted he walk for an hour or so in the afternoon to help his recovery. Arthur frequently joined him and the sight of the two together was even more common than when Merlin had served him.

Malcolm was only 10 and was getting some experience before being given a position as a Squire to one of Arthur's knights. He was tiny and hopeless but so enthusiastic and so happy to serve that even Arthur did not have the heart to speak an unkind word to him. He also worshipped Merlin, who he seemed to regard as some kind of God of Servants. Every time Merlin helped him with a task or offered him advice he basked as though he was in the presence of the divine.

He skipped along behind the two and babbled some incoherent story about his day to Merlin, who stopped every now and then to let him catch up and smiled fondly at him as he tried to string the confused words together.

Morgana, unnoticed behind them, was almost ashamed to admit that she had preferred it when Merlin was convalescing.

Everybody knew every detail of what had happened and Merlin was their hero; a fact that would have stunned her if she were not already aware of all the ways in which he had been a hero since the day they met.

The town buzzed with talk of his deeds, of the danger she had been in, of what exactly he had saved her from, of the extraordinary injuries he had obtained in defending her honour and her life. While he was abed, no one questioned her presence at his side. In fact, the gossip spoke wonderingly of how kind and attentive she and Arthur were to a servant, of their hopes for the reign of Uther's successor. They were calling her 'Morgana the Beautiful' and for once not speaking of her face.

She had sat by his bedside as he lay unconscious, no one questioning her if she brushed back his hair or held his hand or placed her palm upon his cheek. Gaius ministered to him calmly; a shake of his head and the raise of an eyebrow the only clue to his mystification on Merlin's recovery. Once or twice she thought she saw his glance land on her with an inquiring tilt to his head but he did not ask and so she did not tell.

She believed she kept her newly-realised feelings well hidden but could not help notice that Gwen and Hunith often contrived to distract Gaius and Arthur so she could be alone with him. Hunith in particular was more kind to her than ever; fetching her food from the palace kitchens when she was hungry and generally making her life easier. She knew in some part of her mind that things should be the other way around but couldn't bear to relinquish her spot by his bed.

On the day Merlin had woken, she had been there alone sitting by his bedside. She thought she heard something and had looked up to see his eyes open. Her heart had rushed into her throat and before she could think she reached down and kissed him, not once but three times, her hands and lips caressing him too tenderly. She realised suddenly what she was doing and pulled back.

"You're awake," she said, somewhat redundantly, and he simply blinked, confused, and then asked for water.

"Of course," she said and ran out of the room, quickly bringing back a goblet filled with liquid. She had had to help him up, her arm supporting him as he drank, and as he'd finished drinking his fill he'd almost immediately fallen back into a deep sleep.

He'd woken again later and after he had drunk the rest of the goblet's contents, he'd looked confused and then seemed to realise he was alive.

"I thought I was dead," he said, "I should be..." and his eyes widened as a thought seemed to occur to him. "Gaius!" he yelled, and it had been all she could do to stop him from getting out of bed, something he did not have the strength to do.

"Gaius!" he yelled as she restrained him, "where is he? Gaius!"

"Gaius is fine, Merlin," she reassured him, "he's fine. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't have done it. Nimueh is dead, remember. You killed her."

He just nodded then and fell back onto the bed, too relieved and too tired from his exertions to ask how she could have known. She took in his white face and sweat-drenched night clothes and thought he still looked so ill. She wrapped his slim hand in hers and put the cloth back on his head.

"You should get some more rest," she said softly, "you still have healing to do."

He'd nodded tiredly and she'd thought he would go back to sleep when she heard Gwen's voice in the main room. She'd walked in and seen Merlin awake and alive and gave a small cry, her hands coming in front of her mouth as they did whenever she was emotional. To Morgana's amusement, she launched herself across the room and also kissed Merlin, her hands caressing his face in disbelief.

"Merlin," she breathed, "you're awake."

He just looked somewhat stunned as Arthur followed Gwen into the room. Morgana had noticed that these days where there was one the other was increasingly not far behind.

"Merlin," smiled Arthur and he came over and grabbed his shoulder in a gesture of manly camaraderie, "you're awake then?"

"What happened?" asked Merlin.

"You don't remember?"

"No. Morgana and I were heading back to Camelot and... and then I woke up here and beautiful women keep kissing me. Are you entirely sure that I'm not dead?"

They'd all laughed at that and then Morgana had chased them out of the room to let him get his rest.

She was glad too that it was her tending to him because the energy his body put into healing him seemed to have affected his control on his magic. In his sleep, objects moved around the room, books fell from shelves, boots walked themselves and, once, the wardrobe flew open and his clothes flew around the room before scattering themselves on the floor.

He never muttered or spoke an incantation. It was as though the magic was so much a part of him, so instinctive, that it burst out without his knowledge or control. She caressed his face and wondered how someone so extraordinarily powerful could be the simply kind man he was.

She cleaned up the room and tried to keep the magic secret, but on the night of the wardrobe, Hunith and Gaius both had burst in to see what the commotion was about.

"What on Earth happened in here?" asked Gaius and she'd started cleaning up the clothes, telling him that she'd been looking for something and everything had fallen out and...

"I'm his mother, Morgana," said Hunith, gently, "and Gaius knows him better than anyone. Do you not think we already know?"

She'd felt like an idiot then. Of course they knew. Magic like that had probably been floating out of him effortlessly since he was a child.

"I can see yours too, you know," said Hunith and Morgana realised that, like her son, she quietly saw much more than people realised. She always spoke so calmly. It lessened the terror of what she was saying. She had protected Merlin and even though Morgana was not her daughter she knew she would keep her secret too.

"Thank you for protecting him, for caring for him. Living in Ealdor, I cannot watch over him. I know there is a time when a son has to make his own way in the world but it is more difficult to let them go when they are so special."

She'd smiled her understated, sweet, kind smile, "I'm glad he has you." And Morgana had just acknowledged her briefly, embarrassed to be so transparent.

She and Gaius had helped her clean up and then left the room again to get some sleep. Within 10 minutes, the wardrobe flew open again and the clothes once again whirled around the room and deposited themselves on the floor. This time Merlin had woken up as the last of his shirts floated down from the ceiling and he looked at her sitting there, panic in his eyes.

"What happened to the clothes?" he asked, somewhat desperately. "There must have been some sort of gust of wind."

She smiled at that, somewhat relieved that in some ways he was the terrible liar she'd always thought he was. How on Earth had he kept his magic secret for so long? And a small voice said, because we weren't looking. We thought he was just Merlin. And we never noticed.

"It's ok, Merlin, you've been doing magic in your sleep for two weeks now. You seem to have lost a bit of control. Only I've seen it, although Hunith and Gaius have helped clean up the mess. No one else knows."

"You've seen... you know? How long?"

"The dragon. He told me a lot. He told me almost everything. He helped me find a way to cure you; a way that didn't involve anybody dying."

"I'm sorry," he said and his hand reached out to hers and held it, "I wanted to tell you. I should have told you. With everything you were going through, I could see you needed a friend. But I was scared. Not telling anyone is so much a part of my life. I was a coward."

She put her spare hand to this bare chest and traced the lines of his injuries: the long thin scar down his right side culminating in the larger livid abrasion of the bolt; the one along his abdomen below his stomach; and the discoloured bruising still on his left side.

"I think these say otherwise," she said softly and kissed him once on the lips, "I don't think I'm going to be able to let you say anything bad about yourself for quite a while."

She'd spent nearly two weeks tending to him as he grew in strength and she could only cherish the time she'd been given. Because now he was out of bed and her excuse was gone. And Merlin was so overwhelmed with well wishers from the town that she'd become lost in the crowd.

"Oh, there's Arthur and Merlin and Malcolm. I guess they must be going hunting," said Gwen as she appeared at her side with a posy of flowers in her hand.

"Hunting!" exclaimed Morgana, "you can't be serious."

"Yes, Arthur wants to go boar hunting and Malcolm insisted on going with him so he asked Merlin to come as well." She smiled. "You should have seen Malcolm's face when Arthur told him Merlin was coming, I swear I have never seen a child so... My Lady, are you alright?"

"But this is madness. Merlin isn't well enough to go hunting. What if something happens? What if he's hurt?"

"They're not going far and he's not going on horseback. He has to move around for at least an hour. I guess he thought he'd like to get out of the town and into the countryside."

"I don't believe this," fumed Morgana, "just when I thought that Arthur was finally growing up he goes and does something like and... and... and Merlin doesn't even like hunting!" She stormed off toward her chambers; Gwen following behind her with an annoying knowing smile on her face.

She stayed in her room for more than an hour, brushing her hair and trying on clothes and doing anything to kill the time until he got back. Boars were notoriously unpredictable to hunt. One wrong move and...

"Gwen, I can't stay here anymore. I have to go for a walk. Will you come with me?"

"Of course, My Lady," she said.

They'd strolled down the stairs into the courtyard and Morgana's heart leapt into her throat again but this time for a different reason. Arthur's party was coming back into Camelot and in the front was Merlin, shirtless and with blood splattered all over his chest and arms.

Without taking a moment to think, she ran hysterically down the stairs and up to him, her hands fluttering over his abdomen trying to work out where he'd been hurt.

"Morgana," she vaguely heard him say but she couldn't listen in her panic and finally he grabbed her and shook her slightly, "Morgana, it's not my blood. Morgana! It's Owain's. He was injured and I had to treat him; use my shirt as a bandage. He's fine. Morgana! It's not my blood!"

Finally, his voice registered and she focused on his calm but concerned blue eyes and she realised what he was saying.

"It's not your blood," she repeated.

"No."

"You're unharmed?"

"I'm fine."

With a shudder she let loose of her fear and found her anger.

"How could you scare me like that!" she hissed at him, pulled her arm back and slapped him across the face.

As she turned and stormed once again back to her bedchamber, she was aware of Merlin's confused astonishment, Arthur's amusement, Gwen's concern and Uther's guarded expression as she swept past him. What her guardian would make of her behaviour she did not know. And right now she was too upset to care.


	25. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22: Why are you here?**

Morgana stood on the battlements, overseeing Camelot, her mind consumed with her thoughts.

"It's a truly beautiful view from up here, isn't it?"

She started and turned to find Uther standing beside her. He had obviously just come from state affairs; dressed in formal robes with his crown nestled around his head. He smiled at her briefly but then stared straight ahead at the roofs of Camelot's shops and houses. "I forget sometimes to come and look and remind myself of the reason I do what I do. If I don't look around now and then, I find myself doing things with no memory of why." He gave one of his small laughs; reserved for those moments when he was being reflective.

She simply stared straight ahead, impassive. She had no idea what he was talking about and was too involved with her own affairs to care. Her feelings toward Uther, always ambivalent, had taken a sharp turn for the worse since she had returned from her ordeal. In the back of her mind, she suspected Uther was happier about the fact that Merlin had saved her virtue than he was about him saving her life. Sometimes she didn't know how she managed to go through every day pretending, oh so many things.

Her use of magic to bring Merlin back from the brink was a knowledge she held deep inside her. Uther's love for her, she knew, could and would turn at the drop of a pin. And she couldn't imagine what he would think of the feelings she had. Feelings she had to admit had been there long before Merlin had sprung her from the cell.

She had a memory that often flashed into her mind of his face; his eyes looking at her, into her, seeing through her completely. It had been when they were helping Mordred and they'd had a conversation about magic. She'd felt turned inside out, as though he could understand not just every word she'd said but everything she'd meant, even the things he couldn't possibly know. She'd felt the attraction even then but had ignored it, blaming Arthur constantly for not being braver while committing the same sin herself. She was the Lady Morgana, the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, and he was just a servant.

She was such a fool.

"Twenty years," continued Uther, "such a long time. My job, Camelot's need, was for me to make decisions and hard ones. Sometimes I look back on them and I... regret... what my decisiveness has led to. My love for my wife, Igraine, for example, was so strong, so all-encompassing that after her death I couldn't bear the thought of another woman," his lips curved wryly, "my recent unfortunate foray into matrimony notwithstanding."

She smiled, humourlessly despite herself. At the time, she had almost been glad of Uther's humiliation but could not muster such base feelings in herself now. Merlin would never be so uncharitable and she couldn't help but be guided by his example.

"I realise, sometimes, that my abstinence has meant that Camelot is far more puritanical than other Courts. The Knights and my son have followed my example and I, I know I have been harsh on people who haven't shown the same restraint. I believed, I still believe, that female herb lore is akin to witchcraft.

"I'm afraid I haven't been kind to women who have, in my opinion, behaved loosely and then tried to use the lore to cover up their mistakes. Children are a blessing. Anyone who tries to get rid of one is... evil.

"As for the other arts, Igraine had such difficulty conceiving and it caused her... it caused both of us... such pain, that I couldn't comprehend a woman trying to avoid it. I distrusted it and them."

Morgana simply stayed there, staring straight ahead. She knew all this, although she did not know why he was there telling her. Uther's opinion on all things to do with sex had always been unusual; a fact she had always vaguely known but had only recently realised. Other courts were louder, rougher, and rocked constantly by scandals. Uther's proclivities, or seeming lack thereof, had made Camelot more refined, its festivities safer, it made being a young woman there easier. At least until you found yourself dreaming of intense blue eyes and gentle, compassionate hands upon your skin.

"If I'm honest with myself, and that is something I struggle with sometimes, I will admit that the last 20 years have only been possible because of what Igraine and I shared," he continued, still following her example and gazing out upon the town.

"The strength I gained from the memory of our love sustains me." This time he paused and looked at her briefly, then continued, his voice softer and affectionate.

"Such opportunities for love are rare and fleeting things. They should be cherished for what they are; reminders that the world we wish to create is worth fighting for. Love like that is unbound by time, or distance, or even status."

Morgana looked at him in shock, unable to believe what she was hearing. Was he saying what she thought? Oh Gods, did he know? She didn't trust herself to speak so said nothing and they stood like that in silence for a time.

"I've been considering what to do about Arthur's loyal, if somewhat accident-prone, servant," said Uther and Morgana sucked in her breath in hope and fear.

"It really doesn't do to have him bumbling around after Arthur cleaning his floors and mucking out his stables; not when his stomach is lined with scars obtained in defending... Camelot. No, it wouldn't do at all.

"I was considering offering him some land but he has the most extraordinary loyalty to my son. Such loyalty is unusual and Arthur needs such people around him. He's also shown a remarkable level of intelligence. I mean, the boy is also studying medicine. I've learned he can read and write in several languages.

"No, I think I might make him a freeman and apprentice him to Gaius officially. When Arthur is King, he will need an advisor; someone he can trust and rely on. It makes sense for that arrangement to start now so their relationship can grow as they do."

There was a pause and Morgana realised something was expected of her so managed a restrained, "Of course. I think he would be well suited for the post."

"Good," said Uther, "it shall be so. And it will benefit him of course, particularly if there is some young lady for whom he has a preference. When it comes to a freeman with a position of responsibility in the Royal Court, people would be more... understanding."

"And, if someone had that opportunity and they needed to get certain potions from the Court Physician then they may find that the Physician is amenable."

It's a trap, she thought, a test. He's trying to get me to reveal himself. But no, that wasn't Uther's way. He was a Knight; the direct confrontation, the challenge, the parry and thrust. No cunning, no obfuscation.

She looked back at the view, her mind spiralling and reeling. She hadn't dared consider taking this chance; was unsure how to even approach it. To be given permission...

"There would be gossip of course, no matter how discreet they were and they would certainly never be given permission to marry. But when it comes to love, I don't think such considerations should stop anyone from taking what joy they can in life. It's too fleeting not to seize with both hands, regardless of what the future will bring."

"Believe me, I know."

And with that, he left her to her thoughts.


	26. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23: Where are you going?**

For the first time in her life, the Lady Morgana simply didn't know what to do. The irony was not lost on her. When it came to bravely forging her own path, as she'd often thought of herself as doing, decisions to act came easily. Rebellion, she was learning, was the simpler task. Doing what others did not want you to do came with clearly-defined actions, particularly when you were butting up against someone like Uther whose opinions were so well known. Actually going after what she wanted with Uther's full blessing was confusing and difficult.

She looked in the mirror at her perfect reflection and sighed in dissatisfaction. If she'd had to make a guess a year ago at where her life would be going, this would not have been chosen. This would not have been considered. This was literally unthinkable.

The problem was that nothing in her life had prepared her for this. Now, if he were a Knight, it would be simple. Her most revealing gown, an arch look or two at the next feast, a handkerchief thrown as a keepsake after a joust, a shy request for him to attend her in her chambers after dinner, and he would be hers. They'd been lining up hoping for her to notice them since she was 12 years old. Although she'd quietly encouraged their attention, the thought of them lusting after her at such a young age was something she'd found rather disgusting. It had put her off encouraging them too much. Some of them were old enough to be her grandfather.

The frustrating thing was that it wasn't as if Merlin didn't notice her beauty. He had an eye for pretty girls; something she'd noticed more than once. When she entered a room, he was often as gobsmacked with her appearance as the other men. It just didn't seem to _matter_ to him.

Just yesterday when 'Lady something or other' had arrived from, Morgana struggled to remember, 'somewhere', his jaw had dropped at her white-gold hair and deep blue eyes. He had been standing near Morgana, looking somewhat out of place in his new position beside Gaius, and his reaction had been unmistakeable. Ignoring, for the moment, the urge to race across the Throne Room and murder the bitch where she stood, Morgana had simply asked him if he had thought her beautiful.

"Oh yes," he'd replied.

"More beautiful than me?" she'd cursed herself for asking.

"No one is more beautiful than you," he'd said absently and kept staring.

And it was the absent-mindedness about the statement as much as the words that had pierced her heart. He'd said it as though it was such a simple statement of fact. There could be no doubt that he'd meant it but also that he felt it was almost irrelevant. She'd wondered madly if Uther's definition of 'discreet' involved her leaping up in the middle of a full royal audience, scratching some strange woman's eyes out, and then begging Prince Arthur's new advisor to _pay attention to_ _her_.

The problem with Merlin, she'd decided, was that he was Merlin. It was his most annoying quality.

In her complete confusion as to how to go about things, she'd even resorted to writing to Dealthia, going through ten different versions until she'd adequately rephrased, "how on Earth did you do it? Please advise."

She felt she'd known enough of the woman to discern that she would not be jealous. What she didn't expect was a rather shrewd letter back with the implication that Dealthia had known about her feelings before she did. It was her gift, she'd explained. She'd seen the affection growing inside her. _Don't worry, one day you'll look at him and you'll see it. _That's what she'd said to her that day in the stand. Gods, even Merlin's former lover who had only been in Camelot for three weeks knew; and he was still clueless. This called for drastic action.

Dealthia had just urged her to be honest; advice she felt was all very well for a woman who could see people's true nature. She'd known that Merlin was attracted to her just by looking at him; honesty was hardly a gamble. Morgana knew that he'd turned Dealthia down at first, despite his feelings, and had been hoping for more practical information on how she had changed his mind. An instruction manual might have been nice: a step-by-step guide to seducing Camelot's most frustratingly-honourable man.

She sighed at her mirror, wondering why her most important decisions always seemed to be made in front of it. It was because she spent so much time making herself beautiful, she thought. How ironic for her then to fall in love with a man who couldn't have cared if she were wearing a burlap sack.

She took off the dress she had been trying on for tomorrow's banquet and slipped into her nightgown, the clinging satin feeling good on her bare skin as she imagined his hands tracing the lines of her body through the material. The knock on the door pulled her out of her reverie and she calmed herself before opening it slightly to see who was there.

It was Merlin and she wondered for a moment if she were as completely transparent as his gaze always made her feel. She remembered her thoughts before he'd knocked and blushed slightly.

"Milady," he greeted her. His tone was one she now recognised as his formal one. He'd called her Morgana when she was nursing him and he still did when she was upset and he was trying to calm her down. She wondered if he'd noticed.

"Gaius asked me to come and see you. He told me to bring you this potion; he said it's a new one you're taking daily. He said to tell you there's enough here for one week."

To Morgana's horror, she saw him clutching the contraceptive she had started taking since her conversation with Uther.

"Oh," she gulped, and then thought, no, he wouldn't have. Gaius couldn't possibly have. But why else send Merlin to hand deliver it so late? I already have enough to last me a month. Am I so obvious that every person in Camelot knows?

She looked at him standing there, holding the potion in his elegant fingers and made her decision. Honesty? Well, it was worth a try.

She suddenly smiled at him, brilliantly, her eyes roving round his beautiful angular form and he smiled back timorously. She captured his gaze for a moment and then he looked at her mouth and his eyes flicked slightly to her nightdress. The blue of his eyes deepened, and his mouth parted slightly. In his gaze, she could swear she saw a hint of recognition. After all, it's not as though he'd never seen her expression before.

"Come in, Merlin," she invited him and locked the door behind them.


	27. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: What is your life worth?**

"Come in, Merlin," she invited him and locked the door behind him. She stood against the hard wood, wondering vaguely how she should approach him. He stood with his back to her in the middle of the room.

He knew why she had invited him in, she was sure of it. He'd seen it in her eyes. He walked slowly over to the table and placed the vial on it and then turned his head to look at her, his eyes gone dark in the candlelight, his expression unreadable. He seemed to decide something suddenly and swallowed before saying quickly, "I should leave."

"Well then, you'll have to get through me," she said flirtatiously and she pushed herself determinedly out from the door and walked over to him. She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him. As she met his eyes, she realised she'd used the wrong words, the wrong tone. He thought she was playing with him. He looked momentarily angry, his features shifting so slightly that only someone who knew him well would have even realised, and then pulled her hands away and went to walk out the door.

"Wait," she said, "please wait. I didn't mean to... please stay."

She hoped the desperation in her voice wasn't obvious, hoped she didn't sound as if she was begging. He stopped facing the door and then turned around, his face blank.

"I didn't... I don't," she cast her eyes down as she fought for the right words, using the time she'd gained to draw close to him again. This time she didn't say anything, just wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his chest. They stayed there still for a moment until he reciprocated, winding his arms around her, his head dipped so his ear was against hers.

She could feel his breath on her shoulder and his hands traced her back, much as they had done on their journey back to Camelot when he had comforted after her nightmare. As then, her bones turned to liquid although this time she recognised the emotion for what it was.

This time it was her who pushed him away as she moved across the room and then turned on him with a look of determination.

"You know, for the smartest man I have ever met you can be such an _idiot_."

He smiled slightly at that. "That's not an entirely original observation."

"I mean honestly, what do I have to do? The whole of Camelot knows, I wouldn't be surprised if all of Albion knows, even _Dealthia_ knows, and you who, on any other occasion, manages to see everything I've ever done and felt and thought, are completely clueless."

"Dealthia?" he queried, looking confused, "what...?"

"Merlin, I am in love with you," she said and the confused look deepened if that was at all possible.

"I..." he began but obviously didn't know what to say.

"But it's more than that," she began. "You don't understand what it's like... what Morys was going to do to me... I'm not a romantic, Merlin, I know that at some stage I will be married and that marriage will be determined by what benefits Camelot. I know he will be older, I know I will be expected to produce heirs and quickly. This never bothered me before, but now..."

"...you can't know. For a moment, I felt what it was like to have people truly think you're worth nothing, treat you like you're worth nothing. They made me feel like nothing. You always make me feel that despite all my flaws I am worth something and I, I need that."

"I need to know what it's like. Before I can do what I must do, I have to know what it's like to be with someone I want to be with."

"I..." he began again.

"Don't, don't say anything," she begged him as she once again moved across the room to where he was standing, "no one knows better than me that this hasn't even occurred to you." But please," she whispered, her arms moving around his neck, her lips moving against his, "please just give me this."

She traced her hand up the front of his shirt to the laces at his neck and undid them, her hand sliding in to feel his taut chest and then down to circle his nipple. Her mouth followed it, trailing kisses up his chest and onto his shoulders and neck.

"Morgana," he said, breathing more deeply but trying to pull away. She began placing soft kisses along his collarbone, her hands creeping up under his shirt and pulling it over his head.

"Please," she said, her right hand trailing along the scar below his abdomen, her left moving up around his neck. She faced him, he fingers moving through his lightly-curled dark hair, "I need this." She took his lower lip in hers and kissed him sweetly three times, as she had when he had woken for the first time. "I want this."

She kissed him again, harder this time, and she felt him give in with a groan. His right hand slipped lower on her back as his left was brought up to her face. He stroked her cheek tenderly for a minute and his mouth came down upon hers, kissing her softly, his tongue parting her lips gently as his hands lightly roved.

He carried her to the bed and laid her down upon it, quickly divesting himself of his trousers and resting himself on top of her, his arms beside her head.

"Are you sure?" he asked her, "Have you thought this through? The consequences..."

"As the man who delivered my contraceptive, I'm surprised you need to ask."

He looked back at the vial on the table. "Your what?"

"Like I said, everyone in Camelot knows except for you. Even Uther knows, you adorable idiot."

And she ran her hands along him, glorying in the feel of his naked weight against her.

"You are wrong about one thing, you know," he said, mirroring her action; one hand moving down her body, caressing her softly as it went.

"Wrong about what?" she managed, her mind quickly becoming distracted by what his hand was doing to her.

"This has definitely occurred to me," and this time when his lips came down upon her reason fled.


	28. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25: Do you have anything worth living for?**

There was a quick sharp rap on the Lady Morgana's door and a guard yelled, "My Lady, Arthur requests the presence of his advisor. He is to report to his chambers as soon as possible."

The morning sunlight struggled past the deep curtains, throwing small lines of light across the bed but failing to illuminate it fully. Morgana sat in the middle of the bed, her long black hair curling down her back, the sheets pushed back so she was unentangled. She ignored the knock, concentrating as she was on the more pleasant task she was engaged in.

She was dressed in her nightgown but the man lying on the bed in front of her was naked. She smiled slightly as she ran her hands up along his chest, around his shoulders and down his arms. In those times when she had imagined this moment, the shadowy figure in her bed had been her husband. She had been there by obligation and she'd always envisaged that it was her perfect body that would be worshipped. Never could she have imagined taking such pleasure in his.

She'd always thought of him as skinny, but now used the word lean. He was so much stronger than she had imagined, a life of manual labour having tightened his thinness into muscle and sinew. She wanted to know every part of him, taking such strange pleasure in moments like this when he would just lay there in calm arousal while she touched him.

She'd known that his skin was pale as ivory but now saw the small tufts of hair around his nipples, the stubble that grew overnight, the barely-there trail down his stomach.

She'd learned that he was ticklish behind his knees, that his ears were sensitive (they had, he had laughed, to be that large for a reason), but enjoyed having his feet tickled, and that when provoked to lovemaking or magic he could let out a ferocious tide of passion.

"Did you know," she asked, "that when you were injured I used to kiss your wounds better?"

He just smiled lazily and so she demonstrated, moving her mouth to his scars and trailing it along them, stopping every now and then for soft kisses. She traced along the one below his stomach and he sucked in a deep breath.

She lay down upon his chest, her head resting so she could hear his heart beating. His hands traced her back and massaged her neck and she thought dreamily that the day had come too soon. They both had duties to perform and although Arthur had been very understanding about Merlin's absences over the last few weeks, there would soon come a time when they would be expected to rejoin the world. This morning's blunt summons had started to become more frequent.

She spoke a few words, her eyes flashed gold and the sheets covered them gently. She looked up, knowing she would see a slightly disapproving look on his face. He used magic for menial tasks constantly but remonstrated with her when she did it. He said magic should only be used for great deeds. She'd asked if those great deeds involved forming smoke into the shape of a horse and he at least had the grace to look embarrassed.

"What nearly happened could happen to you," he'd warned her, "you can't let Uther catch you."

Sometimes she wondered if he was worried about her being executed or worried about what he might do to stop her being executed. She knew how powerful he was; although it was not something she'd ever witnessed outside of a dragon's vision. It was as though he pushed it deep down inside him, covering it with all the layers of his conscience. There were all the little amazing things he did but behind them there was this potential; a potential to do anything. He could reshape the world with a thought, but didn't. In some ways she found it infuriating; if she had that kind of power she would use it.

When it came to exposing himself, it was not just his destiny he was worried about, she'd soon realised. His friendship with Arthur was real, those feelings were real, and he genuinely wanted to be there to protect him. And between maintaining his role by Arthur's side or exposing himself to save her... if it came to a choice...

She pulled herself up, her elbows either side of his face. "Arthur can wait," she said and kissed him deeply, wanting to feel his frustratingly-gentle touch, his caged passion, wanting to reassure herself that in this moment she shared him with nobody. He responded quickly and as her nightgown was thrown to the floor she thought that the responsibilities and duties of the day would not suffer so much from a brief delay.

"Arthur can wait," he agreed and he rolled her over. "I love you," he said softly, capturing her mouth in a kiss.

Or perhaps a long delay. The whole damn world could wait.


	29. Epilogue

**Epilogue: The end is a disguise worn by a new beginning**

How does this end? With a dream? Then let it be the most important one.

* * *

Morgana woke with a gasp. She looked around the room confused, putting her hands up to the moonlight to check they were still young and unlined. She felt movement beside her. A hand wrapped around her waist and a face snuggled into her hip. He did not awaken, for which she was glad. She ran through the images in her mind, seeing what she would see, feeling what she would feel. When? Where? She did not know. Only knew that at some point the future would bring death and destruction, disappointment and betrayal and pain.

She lay back down in the bed and pulled the heavy coverings over herself and Merlin, cocooning them there. In his sleep, he rolled back over, pulling himself up to the pillows. His hair lay black on the white pillowcase and his skin, so white that in the moonlight he had always looked like marble, glowed. She slid her arm underneath his, wrapping it around his torso and burying her face in his shoulder blade. He sighed and took her hand in one of his.

She thought of the dream she had just had and everything it had foretold. Arthur's body dead upon a battlefield, the pain in Merlin's eyes, the coldness of her own heart. It had not needed to show her their disintegration. It was implied in every thought, every action, every look that she had witnessed. They would end and end badly because she would do something Arthur perceived as a betrayal. And she knew where Merlin's ultimate loyalties lay, and why.

She thought briefly that the dream had been showing her that she should end it and now, before these events unfolded. But she knew that she would not. For now, they had each other and the memory of this would sustain her for the lonely years to come.

He'd been right all that time ago by a fire under some stars when she'd felt safe. No matter what the future wrought, no matter what we knew about what was to come, this was worth it.

"I love you, my lion. My beautiful unicorn," she whispered, and closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**And that's all folks. **

**In case you didn't realise, Morgana's dream refers to Arthur's death at the Battle of Camlann, which in the 'original' mythology (if such a thing can be said to exist) happens when he's 35. Although Morgan Le Fay was on Mordred's side, it is said that she took his body to Avalon. It is said that he will come again. But then, it always does, doesn't it?**


	30. Quick shout out

I'd like to do a bit of a shout out to Missy Higgins whose song 'They Weren't There' inspired this fanfic. And to my neighbours who never complained, even when it was on repeat for like an hour while I was writing the beginning of Part 3.

**Missy Higgins**

**"They Weren't There"**

You breathed infinity into my world  
And time was lost up in a cloud and in a whirl.  
We dug a hole in the cool grey earth and lay there for the night.  
Then you said, "wait for me we'll fly the wind,  
We'll grow old and you'll be stronger without him" but oh,  
Now my world is at your feet. I was lost and I was found,  
But I was alive and now I've drowned.

So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song  
So they can tell me I was wrong...  
But they weren't there beneath your stare,  
And they weren't stripped 'till they were bare of  
Any bindings from the world outside that room.  
And they weren't taken by the hand  
And led through fields of naked land  
Where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away...  
So I couldn't say "no".

You sighed and I was lost in you, weeks could've past for all I knew.  
You were the blanket of the over-world and so I couldn't say,  
I wouldn't say "no".

But they all said, "you're too young to even know,  
Just don't let it grow and you'll be stronger without him"  
But oh, now, my world is at your feet. I was lost and I was found,  
But I was alive and now I've drowned.

So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song  
So they can tell me I was wrong...  
But they weren't there beneath your stare,  
And they weren't stripped 'till they were bare  
Of any bindings from the world outside that room.  
And they weren't taken by the hand and led through fields  
Of naked land where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away...

But they weren't there beneath your stare,  
And they weren't stripped 'till they were bare  
Of any bindings from the world outside that room.  
And they weren't taken by the hand and led through fields  
Of naked land where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away...  
So I couldn't say "no".


End file.
